He returned carrying a special delivery letter, and opened it with a paper cutter which she handed him from the table.
“Why,” he exclaimed, his face lighting, “it’s from Colonel Broderick.”
When he had finished reading he turned back to the beginning again, murmuring his pleasure, and read aloud:
“I had expected to write earlier, asking you to stay with us during the meetings of the conference but, in Mrs. Broderick’s absence, I was afraid to assume the responsibilities of host. She will, however, be at home to-morrow so I am asking you and Senator Tarleton of Virginia to accept our shelter. I am very anxious for you to know Tarleton as he wields great influence in the South and this is the first time he has lent his countenance to our work. Mrs. Broderick will allow the three of us full liberty to sit up all night and pass final judgment on all the things that have so long been dear to you and me. I hope your annual address is good and salty; the attitude of this administration toward the civil service has been a keen disappointment and I look to you to launch a vigorous and effective protest.”
“That really is a very great compliment, Addie. Colonel Broderick is one of the leading citizens—if not, indeed, the first citizen of Boston. I have always been a little afraid that he looked on my relations with him as purely official and not quite—not wholly social. You see, your Bostonians have their notions of such things, and they are entitled to what they would themselves call their point of view. Mrs. Broderick is, even more than he, the New England aristocrat, a very cultivated woman; and she was enormously rich. It is the greatest possible honour to be asked to stay there. I won’t conceal it from you, Addie, that I’ve rather feared once or twice, when I’ve been in Boston, that Broderick avoided asking me to the house!”
“Why should he?” asked Mrs. Craighill coldly.
“Well, after all, I’m a Western man, and our city has seemed—I would confess it to no one but you—to have lost its early social dignity.”
“You could hardly expect it to be another Boston any more than you could make Paris of it.”
“But now that the invitation has come in this perfectly cordial way, it’s too bad they still look on me as a widower. They certainly had cards.”
“Maybe you were not expected to understand; it’s merely a matter of fact.” Her words were accompanied by a smile, so slight as to be almost imperceptible, and a narrowing of the lids as she watched and studied him.