And yet there was a faint smile touching the corners of his own lips, relaxing their severity, as he looked down at the girl and asked, in the quizzing tone he might have used toward a child, "Well, little one, now that you have seen me, what will you?"
"That you will pardon us, sir," Mary answered instantly, as she moved forward to Dorothy's side. Washington bent his head graciously to her. But his smiling eyes went back to the younger girl's face, although his words were now in reply to Mary.
"There is surely little to pardon. Rather let me thank you that I am held in such esteem, and thought deserving of so much consideration." Then he added with a glance that embraced them both, "May I know your names?"
"This is my sister, Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead; and I am Mary Broughton Devereux, wife of the officer of that name in Colonel Glover's regiment, now stationed at Cambridge."
Her composure had fully returned, and she spoke with perfect freedom—indeed with a touch of pride—as she looked up fearlessly into Washington's face.
"Aye;" and now his look and voice showed naught but cordiality. "I am happy, ladies, to make your acquaintance. I happen to know your husband, Mistress Devereux, for my present headquarters at Cambridge are in the house formerly occupied by Colonel Glover and his officers.[[1]] I had also a slight acquaintance with your father-in-law."
[[1]] This mansion was afterwards the home of Longfellow.
"Oh, sir—you say that you knew my father?"
The lines of his face relaxed still more as he regarded the little figure standing before him, her hands clasped impulsively, and the great dark eyes, now glittering with tears, raised in a worshipful gaze more eagerly questioning than was even the sweet voice.
"Aye, child, I knew him. We met at the house of your townsman, Colonel Lee."