GENO WAS NOT ONLY THE PRETTIEST, BUT THE SWEETEST GIRL I EVER SAW.
It was decreed that Geno should sit near me that evening on a low sofa, located in a corner of the parlor. All the chairs were occupied by the rest of the company, either by accident or through Miss Sue's propensity to tease her younger sister and myself.
Geno, though but between fifteen and sixteen at that time, was, in her manner, quite as easy and winning as her elder sisters. She sat beside me on the sofa, her luxuriant, dark hair bewitchingly plaited in a roll over her head, wearing a low-neck dress, short skirts, while her bare arms gracefully held a guitar, on which she skillfully played the accompaniment and sweetly sang the old, old Spanish serenade, Juanita. (I advise the young ladies to get a guitar and practice on this song; it will catch a boy every time.) It was that song, and the beautiful, large, dark, expressive eyes of this dear little girl that put me in Old Capitol Prison.
I was a "goner" from that moment, and have never gotten entirely over it in all these years.
I do not say it boastingly at all, but for a truth. I believe I should at that time have felt more at my ease if I had been "scouting" or sitting around a camp-fire with Rebels instead of beside the little girl whose dress touched me. It was a clear case of love at first sight.
The Wells family were natives of my own State, having been embargoed during the war because of the father's steamboat interests on the river; and thereby hangs another tale not pertinent to this narrative, which I hope, subsequently, to give to the world.
I had been introduced to the family as a civilian employé of the military railway, and had been able to present some flattering letters of introduction from Mr. John W. Forney, Mr. Covode, and other prominent Pennsylvania gentlemen. I was, of course, made to feel quite at home.
I may as well admit frankly I was about Geno's house more than duty warranted; so much so, indeed, that the amiable mother must have become tired of me. I seldom went to the railroad headquarters, and I had lost all interest in the capture of Richmond and in Capitola.
Of course, I felt obliged to make an appearance of reporting for duty to the railroad office occasionally.