“Is that abuse? Do you mean to deny that they have eyes?”
“I concede that there may be eyes among them; but Virginians are not fair judges of their expression.”
“Cold eyes,” he continued; “steel grey, rather small, not unpleasant in good-humour, diabolic in a passion, but worst when a little suspicious; then they watch you as though you were a young rattle-snake, to be killed when convenient.”
“Does he not look you in the face?”
“Yes; but not as though he liked you. His eyes only seem to ask the possible uses you might be put to. Ah, the vice-president has given him the floor; now we shall have it. Hard voice, is it not? like his eyes. Hard manner, like his voice. Hard all through.”
“What a pity he is so dreadfully senatorial!” said Mrs. Lee; “otherwise I rather admire him.”
“Now he is settling down to his work,” continued Carrington. “See how he dodges all the sharp issues. What a thing it is to be a Yankee! What a genius the fellow has for leading a party! Do you see how well it is all done? The new President flattered and conciliated, the party united and given a strong lead. And now we shall see how the President will deal with him. Ten to one on Ratcliffe. Come, there is that stupid ass from Missouri getting up. Let us go.”
As they passed down the steps and out into the Avenue, Mrs. Lee turned to Carrington as though she had been reflecting deeply and had at length reached a decision.
“Mr. Carrington,” said she, “I want to know Senator Ratcliffe.”
“You will meet him to-morrow evening,” replied Carrington, “at your senatorial dinner.”