"It is so easy to drive men mad," said Hamilton, contemptuously.
"Particularly when they are in constant and bitter opposition to the
party in power, and possess a leader as subtle and venomous as Thomas
Jefferson—'Thomas,' as he signed a letter to Washington the other day.
You may imagine the disgust of the Chief."
"Not another word of politics this night!" exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton. "I have not uttered a word for just twenty-five minutes. Alexander, go and brew a beaker of negus."
XXX
The next morning Hamilton was sitting in his office when the cards of
James Monroe, F.A. Muhlenberg, and A. Venable were brought in.
"What on earth can they want?" he thought. "Monroe? We have not bowed for a year. Two days ago he turned into a muddy lane and splashed himself to his waist, that he might avoid meeting me."
His first impulse was to excuse himself, on the plea of the pressing nature of his work; but curiosity triumphed, and he told his page to admit the men.
Muhlenberg was again Speaker of the House; Venable was a Representative from Virginia. Hamilton was not friendly with either, but nodded when they passed him. He greeted them amiably as they entered to-day, and exchanged a frigid bow with Monroe. The Senator from Virginia took a chair in the rear of the others, stretched his long legs in front of him, and folded his arms defiantly. He looked not unlike a greyhound, his preference for drab clothing enhancing the general effect of a pointed and narrow leanness.
There was a moment of extreme awkwardness. Muhlenberg and Venable hitched their chairs about. Monroe grinned spasmodically, and rubbed his nose with his upper lip.
"Well, gentlemen," said Hamilton, rapping his fingers on the table.
"What can I do for you?" He scented gun-powder at once.
"I am to be the spokesman in this delicate matter, I believe," said Muhlenberg, who looked red and miserable, "and I will, with your permission, proceed to my unpleasant task with as little delay as possible."