“Because, Mrs. Royall, it’s newspapers she wants to know about. And you’re the best newsman in Washington, begging your pardon, ma’am.” He bowed elaborately.
“You needn’t!” She turned to Amelia.
“I’ve read one of your books, ma’am. Jack sent it to me. I learned so much about America.”
Undoubtedly the gray eyes softened, but the tone did not change.
“Why don’t you take her to your friend on the avenue—that infamous Abolitionist?”
“Mrs. Royall!” Jack’s voice was charged with shock. “You couldn’t be speaking about Editor Gamaliel Bailey?”
“He should be ashamed of himself. Selling out to those long-winded black coats!”
“But, Mrs. Royall—”
“Don’t interrupt. If he’d come to me I’d tell him how to get rid of slavery. It’s a curse on the land. But those psalm-singing missionaries—Bah!”
“May I remind you, Mrs. Royall,” Jack spoke very softly, “that when you came back from Boston you spoke very highly of the Reverend Theodore Parker. And he’s a—”