I told Mr. MacVeagh I felt ashamed to have taken up even a few minutes of their time.
“Not at all,” he answered gallantly. “We are all glad to see you. You did not want anything; if everybody would only let us off so easily!”
This was as he was putting us in the carriage. We drove to the White House to leave our cards, then to Mr. Adams’ for lunch. I told him how all the Cabinet impressed me as being men too heavily weighted down, but very gallant in their bearing.
“They are,” he said. “We kill all our Presidents. There is never more than one ex-President alive. By killing, I don’t mean murdering them like Lincoln and McKinley; we work them all to death.”
The fact is, we have outgrown ourselves! The evolution of the machinery of government has not kept pace with our amazing development as a nation. I imagine in the future we shall be forced to subdivide the country into departments, like the Ancient Romans, grouping the States into South, North, Middle West and North West, all united under the central Federal Government, as were Hispania, Britain, and Gaul, at the height of Rome’s power.
Since that visit to the Cabinet, I have been torn with conflicting feelings. I am still furious about the treatment of Gifford Pinchot and all he stands for, but this is the crew that must sail the ship this voyage, this is the captain with his hand on the tiller. We ought all to stand by, oughtn’t we? And yet, and yet, we cannot forget! The situation is very strange! There was an article in the Washington Post last week, called “The Back-to-Elba Club.” It is aimed at the Rooseveltians. They are a strongly entrenched body, Henry Adams one of the strongest. There is a sort of romance, a “Charlie-over-the-Water” sentiment, which is lovely, romantic, and touching—but is it quite fair? Harry White has ranged under the new banner, though he was unjustifiably chucked out of office by the Administration. He is now in high favor, and going down to South America as the head of the delegation to the Conference at Argentina. I am full of wonder about this Cabinet. The present is surely in a very difficult political situation. I suppose to those who have more knowledge, this is true at all times.
In the winter of 1912 I was again in Washington, on a visit to our old friend, John Loudon, and our new friend, Lydia Loudon, his charming American wife. Loudon was now Minister from the Low Countries to the United States, and the Dutch Legation was counted one of the most attractive houses in the capital. The Loudons had been stationed in Japan, where Lydia had taken a course in the art of arranging flowers. Early on the first day of my visit we drove to the market, where I watched her choose with care branches of yellow forsythia, bunches of daffodils, jonquils, primroses, sprays of feathery mimosa. By lunch time it seemed that spring had come to the legation, though winter still reigned outside. Madame Loudon, like every true artist, is possessed with the passion for perfection that compels her to do whatever she does with all her heart. As I watched her patient, tireless hands, weaving the spell that held her guests of the afternoon enthralled, I had a realizing sense of my own artist’s motto:
“If a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well!”
The Loudons’ musicale brought together the music lovers of Washington, who listened in complete silence to a perfect program. Madame Loudon’s singing is a pure joy. As I heard the rich notes of her contralto voice blend with the dearly familiar tones of my old friend, the harmony seemed happily to express the union of these two uncommon persons. The Loudons are what all hostesses recognize as the rarest of created beings, a perfectly delightful couple. We all know plenty of charming women, and dozens of interesting men, to invite to our dinners; but a pair like the Loudons is a rarity not often met in any sphere, least of all in formal society where such twin souls are scarce as roc’s eggs.
During my stay I had the pleasure of lunching with Mr. and Mrs. Cabot Lodge, another pair of wedded stars; and after lunch I had a few words over the coffee with the host, on the subject that was at that time beginning to be whispered wherever Roosevelt’s friends chanced to meet. I asked Mr. Lodge flatly if in his judgment it would be expedient to nominate Theodore Roosevelt for President at the June convention.