He looked thoughtfully out of the window at the Virginia hills and Socola determined to change the conversation. He was fairly well informed of the affairs in the little Kingdom on whose throne young Victor Emmanuel sat, but this man evidently knew the philosophy of its history as well as the facts. A question or two with his keen eye boring through him might lead to an unpleasant situation.
"Your family are all with you, Senator?" he asked pleasantly.
Instantly the clouds lifted from the pale, thoughtful face.
"Yes—I've three darling babies. I wish you to meet Mrs. Davis—come, they are in the next car."
In a moment the statesman had forgotten the storm of revolution. He was laughing and playing with his children. However stern and high his uncompromising opinions might be on public questions, he was wax in the hands of the two lovely boys who climbed over him and the vivacious little girl who slipped her arms about his neck. His respite from care was brief. At the first important stop in Virginia a dense crowd had packed the platforms. Their cries throbbed with anything but the spirit of delay and compromise.
"Davis!"
"Hurrah for Jefferson Davis!"
"Speech—speech!"
"Davis!"
"Speech!"