“And what I most desire is to be with her. I am singularly blessed. It troubles me now that I grow old that the people will not let me rest.”
“You could say no. You could refuse when they thrust these responsibilities upon you,” she reminded him, grave beyond her years.
He lifted his gaunt shoulders in a ponderous sigh. “This is a great country, Emily, my child. Where else could a gangling, country boy with no fortune and little education fight his way up to where he is honored as I have been honored by my countrymen? I owe America a debt. Speaking of debts,” his mood changed, his face grew into a sardonic grimace, “the question is—where is the money coming from to pay for all this pride and eminence? It costs like the devil to live in Washington and the crops this year were disappointing. As things stand now I owe about twice as much as I’m worth. Of course there are a lot of people who owe me—”
“Then make them pay,” she counseled. “And you should never have spent so much money for this locket, uncle Jackson. I love you without gifts.”
“When I can’t buy a present for a pretty girl, I’ll let them cart me off to a debtor’s prison!” he declared. “As for asking my friends to repay money I’ve loaned them, that’s something a gentleman can’t do, Emily.”
“Then don’t be a gentleman,” she suggested boldly. “Be a politician. They seem to be able to ask for anything they want without any qualms whatever.”
He laughed so loudly that some of the guests came hurrying in to hear the joke. “When James Monroe makes me ambassador to Mexico or Russia or some other heathen spot on this globe, I’m going to make Emily Donelson my prime counselor,” he said. “This gal has brains.”
Emily laughed and hurried out to help her aunt. She was feeling easier in her mind. If uncle Jackson was harassed about money, he might be relieved at hearing that Jack was not going back to school. There was young Andy coming along to be educated and Andrew Hutchings, also a ward of the Jacksons, and it must cost a tremendous lot to run this huge plantation and care for all the people, white and black. And anything aunt Rachel wanted she had, whether it was a pair of silk mitts, a ten-dollar hat or an expensive suite of furniture shipped in at enormous expense from halfway across the country. Somewhere Andrew Jackson found the money to gratify Rachel’s every desire.
That expensive saddle for Andy—and her locket—and it was very certain in her mind that there were some things that the General needed for himself. He needed new clothes anyway. She had noted the shabbiness of his braided coat, shiny at the elbows, and all his waistcoats were worn on the edges.
Destiny might have planned great things for Andrew Jackson through his lifetime, decided his niece, but fate had certainly been stingy with the practical rewards.