“You are so good to me always,” said Roma, smiling.
“I am so glad that you have so fine a day for your journey, Miss Fronde,” ventured the younger man.
“Thank you. It is a glorious day, is it not?” said the young lady, still beaming.
“Much too glorious to abandon the country for the city.”
“Oh, but Washington is not like any other city in the world, I think. Washington, with its broad, shaded streets and avenues, its deeply shaded parks and squares, is perfectly beautiful in May and June, when the trees are in fresh leaf and the flowers in fresh bloom—an ideal city,” said Roma with enthusiasm.
“I remember it when it was mostly bog, swamp and scrubwood, and Pennsylvania Avenue was like a muddy country road, with a few straggling houses and shops built irregularly on each side,” said the old minister.
“Well, then, a beautiful city has now been evolved from that ‘wilderness,’ and literally been made to ‘bloom and blossom as the rose,’” Roma replied.
At this moment Tuck entered the waiting-room, came up to his mistress, and handed her her ticket and check.
“Be sure to take care of the carrier pigeons, Puck,” she said.
“’Deed will I, youn’ mist’ess, same as if dem birds was my own chillun,” fervently replied the young negro.