CHAPTER XXXI
WASHINGTON, BOSTON AND PINCHBROOK
Though the session of Congress had closed a month before, Captain Somers was gratified to learn on his arrival that Senator Guilford and his family were still in Washington, the distinguished gentleman having been detained by important public business. As soon as he could make himself presentable, he hastened to pay his respects to the Senator, and thank him for his kindness. He was not at home. Emma received him with a warm blush of pleasure on her fair cheeks. She had entirely recovered from the effects of the accident; and her tribute of gratitude was so eloquently poured forth, that the gallant young captain, who had hardly seen a young lady before for two months, could not exactly tell whether he stood on his head or his heels; for praise from those beautiful lips produced a sensation of giddiness in the region of the brain.
Young men will be silly in spite of all we dignified old fogies can say to convince them of the folly of being carried away by the witching arts of pretty, graceful little creatures like Emma Guilford. Perhaps the remembrance of the scene on the railroad was some excuse for him; and it is entirely unnecessary to apologize for anything a beautiful girl may do, especially if she be the daughter of a Senator. The young lady said a great many pretty things, and the young gentleman a great many smart ones, before she discovered that the captain was wounded in the arm, though she had already remarked upon his pale face and rather attenuated form.
He told her when and where he was wounded; and of course she wanted to know all about his adventures in Secessia. He was as willing as Othello to speak
| “Of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents, by flood and field; Of hairbreadth scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe.” |
All this to hear did Emma Guilford seriously incline. But he had hardly commenced the story before the Senator himself entered the room.
“Ah! Captain Somers, I am delighted to see you!” said he with enthusiasm, as he extended his hand, which our hero as warmly grasped.
“Thank you, sir. I have called to express my obligations to you for all your kindness to me and to my friend. Major de Banyan wished to be kindly remembered to you.”
“I am happy to hear from the major; and as for the rest, I feel that I have not yet begun to discharge my obligation to you. Why didn’t you write to me before?”