“We will talk about that when I get back,” she said, as she took her leave.
Accordingly, the next morning she again started for the city of Washington, without the slightest misgiving or premonition of evil. Indeed what had she to fear? She knew exactly how to proceed. She, therefore, boldly entered the city, after having complied with such military requisitions as were necessary in those days. It was frequently the case that the most elegant ladies of the South, mounted upon bales of cotton in an ox-wagon, went shopping in cities that were under Federal jurisdiction. Some had to take the oath of allegiance to the U. S. Government, and others, by their extreme cleverness, managed to “get through the lines” without compromising their fealty to the Confederacy. It is not necessary to describe Mildred’s military maneuvers in order to secure both ingress and egress. But more light will be thrown on this subject as the story proceeds.
Again Mildred was in Washington. She registered at the very same hotel at which she had put up before. This was the first mistake that she had made. For even her first visit had aroused the suspicions of the head clerk. However, without manifesting the least surprise, he assigned her to a room, remarking that it would be half an hour before the chamber would be ready for occupancy.
“You can sit in the parlor for that length of time?” he asked with a bland smile.
“Certainly,” replied Mildred.
“Thanks,” he said, bowing politely. “Please step this way.”
Mildred followed him to the elegant parlor, and seated herself on one of the luxurious sofas.
“I will return in a short time,” said the urbane clerk, “and have you shown to your room. Please make yourself comfortable.”
He bowed himself out of the apartment, and was gone about twenty minutes. Seating himself, he manifested a disposition to engage in conversation—at which Mildred exhibited surprise as well as aversion.
“You have no friends in the city, lady?” he said half inquiringly and half declaratively. She could construe it either way.