A Little Girl in Old Washington

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  OF MANY THINGS.

  "Oh, where is mamma?" cried Annis, as she was clasped in Mr. Mason'sarms one morning.

  "Can't you give me mamma's welcome also?" inquired the kindly voice."Why, Annis, what a large girl you are! It seems as if we must havebeen away an age for you to change so."

  "Am I changed?" She laughed cheerfully. "Isn't it time I grew? Varinasaid in her last letter that she was five feet four inches. And I amnot five feet yet. And Rene has been to assemblies, in long gowns. Iwent to two balls, and that of the flags was--magnificent."

  "I shall have to look after my flock more sharply. You will all runwild."

  "But mamma?"

  Then he told her that although the operations had been a success, andthere was now no danger of Charles growing crooked, he was still in avery delicate state of health, and the doctor had ordered him a coolclimate for the summer. They were to go farther north and travel abouta bit. A sea voyage was supposed to be the best, but that was quiteimpossible in the present state of affairs and the dangers of theocean.

  "Oh, I thought you were sure to come home!" she exclaimeddisappointedly.

  "We are sure of nothing, it seems. Are you very homesick?"

  A quick rift of color flashed up in her face. "I'm not homesick at all.I like Washington so much. There are so many beautiful places, and thesails on the rivers and queer nooks where the Indians used to live, andthe Capitol and the Senate where the great men talk, and so many lovelypeople in fine clothes, and the officers, and the French minister'scarriage that spins along like a great butterfly, and handsome Mrs.Madison and the grand ladies----"

  "You will hardly want to go back to the plantation."

  "Jaqueline is going to live in Washington," she said, evading thequestion.

  "I am afraid you are getting off with the old love," half reproachfully.

  "Not mamma, not--oh, I love you all just the same!" clasping his armvehemently.

  Her cheeks were very bright. She experienced a curious feeling aboutCharles. Perhaps it was because she had seen these grown lovers somuch, and she herself was growing out of childish things.

  Mr. Mason was on his way to the plantation, and then to the Pineries.His mother had missed his visits very much through the winter, and shewas becoming more feeble.

  They all felt disappointed that Charles was not really well.

  "It is probably the best thing you can do," said Dr. Collaston. "Heneeds bracing up after this trying ordeal. I was afraid he would sinkunder it."

  "The doctors consider it quite wonderful. When I think how narrow hisescape has been from lifelong deformity----"

  The father's voice broke a little. Not an hour ago he had been talkingto Louis, straight, tall, vigorous, with clear eyes and skin pink withthe rich blood coursing through his veins; and the contrast between himand the poor pale lad had been great indeed.

  "It will be all right. Surgery is making rapid strides. So iseverything. I am glad not to be any older, and I hope to live to see agreat and grand country. Why, I may reasonably count on fifty years!"laughing light-heartedly.

  Yet he would have been shocked if he could have looked at Washingtonfifty years from then--with a gift of prescience.

  Mr. Mason was gratified to meet Roger Carrington again in therelationship to which he had once so cordially welcomed him. Jaquelinewas sweet and tender and very happy. But what a fine young woman shehad become! And Patty was as matronly and motherly as if she had beenmarried half a century. But Randolph Mason gave a little sigh as hethought how children grow up and out of the old home nest.

  The plantation was in good shape. There had been some unimportantdeaths, a number of marriages, and many births. Virginia slaves werea prolific race, and added to the wealth of the master. They were alloverjoyed to see him, and full of regret that "missus" wasn't with him.

  "'Pears laik everybody been daid and buried but Mas'r Louis," said oldChloe.

  At the Pineries nothing seemed changed. Brandon Floyd was beginningto look like his father, and was taking on the same important airs.He was very bitter about "Madison's war, that no doubt would last aslong as the other war, by the looks of things, and leave us in the sameplight."

  When Mr. Mason thought of his own blooming girls his heart really achedfor Marian. After all, there was nothing like a home of her own anda love of her own for a woman. He was glad Jaqueline had come back tohers.

  But it brought about a rather perplexing point, not so easily settled,it would seem. Mr. Carrington importuned for an early marriage.Jaqueline had bidden him wait until her father came.

  The lover pleaded his cause so well that the father could hardly sayhim nay.

  "What do you most desire?" to Jaqueline. "We may not be back untilquite in the autumn. I have been seized with a strong inclination tosee a little of our own big land," laughingly. "We are proud of ourshare in the old war, but other States had a hand in it as well. Itmakes a man feel more a citizen of the whole country--and a grand placeit is. So we shall not hurry."

  He gave her a wistful glance, as if to read her wish in the matter.

  "I would quite as lief wait. Everything would have to be so different.But," blushing, "it was the rock on which we went to pieces before."

  Her father nodded.

  "There would be great disappointment on the old place. But you mightgo down and stay a week or so. Varina is so in love with Dolly andCharleston that we settled she should remain until autumn, when Dollyand her husband are coming up for a visit. That young Floyd seems to bequite somebody. I always thought Dolly flighty, but she appears to havesome common sense, after all."

  "And Varina is quite a woman. I hope she won't be utterly spoiled. Ofcourse," tentatively, "it would be a quiet wedding. I think I wouldlike it in church."

  Then, she had really considered it.

  "Why not?" said Patty. "So many of the girls around home are marriedand gone, and unless you could have a crowd it would be dismal. Then,you have so many friends in Washington. To be sure, it would be queerfor a girl to be married without all her family about her. Mamma andCharles and Varina! Well, we've one more than half of them. Jaqueline,if you hadn't made that fuss before----"

  "Yes," returned Jaqueline meekly.

  Mrs. Jettson added her voice in favor of the marriage. It had to be sospeedily arranged. There were friends ready enough to be bridesmaids;indeed, the subject was taken up in such earnest that Jaqueline waslikely to be married out of hand. All that was really needed was awedding gown and an appearing-out dress; all the rest could be doneafterward, and there was her mother's bridal gown waiting for her.

  When it came to the point, instead of a simple wedding it was a verygrand one. One of the Cabinet ladies sent her a veil to wear becauseit was luck to be married in something borrowed, and the veil had beenworn at the coronation of King George. Mrs. Sweeny worked night andday altering over the wedding gown, which was a mass of satin, sheergauze, and lace, with a train carried by a daintily attired page.Annis held her prayer book and her glove when the ring was put on herfinger. Christ Church was crowded with the _elite_ of Washington, saida journal of the day. Mrs. Madison graced the scene, and Mrs. Cutts,with whom Jaqueline was a great favorite, while Judge and Mrs. Toddwere warm in congratulations. It was really quite an event, and Rogerfelt almost as if he had married a princess of the blood royal. Suchparties and dinners as were showered upon the young couple, and suchcompliments as the handsome bride received, were almost enough to turnone's head.

  Annis was kept busy writing journal-like letters to mamma and Charles.And what treasures the old journals and letters are to-day! How Mrs.Carrington went to Christ Church Sunday morning in "a violet satingown trimmed with fine silk ruffles edged with lace, and a whitesatin petticoat with embroideries in violet silk and gold thread. Afine-wrought lace scarf that her own mother had brought from Paris,white satin boots with gold lacings, long white silk gloves embroideredin lavender, and a white Neapolitan hat with a wide fluted rim, tri
mmedwith a drawn silk lining and rows of piping, and a great cluster oflilies and violets and ostrich plumes."

  The wedding veil was returned. Annis was to wear the wedding gownlater on, and at a very modern entertainment quite late in the centuryJaqueline's grand-daughter won no end of admiration in it.

  So when Randolph Mason had given his eldest daughter away, and kissedher good-by with a thousand tender wishes, he went back to the palelittle son and his dear nurse, as if he had had some sort of a galadream mixed up with a whirlwind.

  "I wish Jacky had waited," said Charles with a sigh. "I should like tohave seen it."

  "It wouldn't have been half so grand at home. Washington is a fineplace for such a thing."

  "Finer than Philadelphia?"

  "Oh, no!" Mr. Mason smiled, remembering the simple church. There weregrander ones here. And, except the Capitol, the White House, and partsof several public buildings, there was nothing so very grand. But theconcourse of people could hardly have been matched.

  "Didn't Annis want to come with you?"

  "She did at first. Then the wedding drove all other desires out of hermind. I was afraid she would make a time when I started. But everythingwas in such a bustle!"

  "Couldn't she have come here for a week or two, before we start?"

  "How would we have sent her back?"

  "We wouldn't have sent her back then," said the boy triumphantly.

  His father smiled. "She has grown so, and changed some way. Her hair isnot quite so light. And she can chatter in French like a native. Pattythinks her very smart."

  "And I have not grown any!" he subjoined in a disconsolate tone. "Iam not allowed to study. She will get way ahead of me. But she doesn'tknow Latin, and she can't go to college."

  And perhaps he could marry her. He was not so sure of that now. Perhapshe would never marry anyone. But he was glad Roger Carrington hadJaqueline.

  Annis tried very hard to be sorry at not seeing her mother. She wasfrightened because she did not want to cry over it as she had atfirst. She had given up mamma to Charles, and to be sorry and want herback was selfish. Then there were so many things to do, and so manypleasures. There was not time enough to run over to Aunt Jane's everyday, yet the children were so fond of her. She knew some girls, too,who were asking her to supper every few days, or to join some partyto the woods, or to sail up or down the river. It was such a lovelything to be alive and well! When that came into her mind her very heartmelted in pity for Charles.

  Then, it was queer, but Louis had taken to calling her his little girl.He teased her sometimes, but he came to take her riding when she hadany spare hours. She could hardly decide which was the handsomer, Louisor Mr. Carrington, and she thought it rather disloyal. Jaqueline saidRoger was, by far.

  And then came the plans for housekeeping. Roger and she inspected somehouses. It would be more convenient in Washington, but Georgetown wasmuch prettier. And there were suburban districts.

  "But think of the winter nights in the rain and the mud, and sometimessleet, and the time wasted going back and forth. Isn't it a bit ofpatriotism to want to build up one's own city? We are a small people asyet, compared to some other places. If we don't increase and multiplyand spread out, and fill up our vacant squares, our honor may be takenfrom us."

  "After so noble an argument I shall have to agree with you that it isour bounden duty to remain," replied Jaqueline with an arch smile.

  "Mother would like us at Georgetown, but she has Ralph and his wife."

  "Oh, do stay!" cried Annis. "I like Washington so much!"

  "The casting vote. We remain. Annis, you are to come with us. Wecouldn't give you up now."

  "Until mamma comes home. Of course I belong to her."

  They went down to the old plantation, and the house slaves made a bigfeast; the field hands had an illumination of lanterns and big pineknots. But Annis thought the great house lonely. Then she recalled whather father once said--when all the children were married she wouldstay there with her mother and him. Jaqueline and Patty and Varinawould have husbands and children, and Annis shivered at a strangeconsciousness of solitude.

  Jaqueline had been instructed to take her outfit, and anything shewanted, her father said. Chloe knew all about the bed and table linen:didn't she bleach it up every spring in May dew? Such a packing, such arejoicing time over missy's husband "that she got at last," which meantnothing derogatory nor that she had made a great effort; only most ofthe slaves had great faith in first loves for white folks, and a happyending to an engagement.

  There was the house to put in order and the "house-warming" to give, agrand dinner for married friends and a dance for the young people, whenLouis was master of ceremonies, and bright eyes grew still brighterwith pleasure at his notice.

  Almost before one had noted, there were cool nights and ripeningfoliage, house-cleaning, and preparation for winter. Ah, how lovelythe banks of the Potomac were, and Rock Creek! Jaqueline begged thatthey should take their first ride over again. There were various firstthings to do. The mother over at Georgetown claimed them frequently.Ralph's wife was very nice and sweet, but Jaqueline brought a curiousstir and dazzle in the house, and an atmosphere as of a spring morning.

  Charles had improved wonderfully. There were some remarkable springsup the Hudson that had wonderful health-giving properties. And whenthey came back to New York he was so taken with the advantages thathe begged to remain. The doctor in whose charge he had been, promisedto watch over him and not allow him to study too severely, and a niceboarding place had been found for him with a charming motherly woman.

  "Oh, Annis!" cried her mother, holding her off after the first fondembrace, "let me look at you. I have lost my little girl!"

  "Mamma, I couldn't stay little always. But the part that loves andthinks doesn't change, and I have tried very hard sometimes not to wantyou when I knew Charles needed you. I am so glad to get you back! Oh,you _do_ believe that? But there is a queer thing I don't understand.When we first came to Virginia it was very hard to try to love theothers when they took so much attention."

  She was studying her mother with large, earnest, lustrous eyes.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Mason, with a fond embrace.

  "And now I love them all so much. I'm not quite sure about Varina--Ihave not seen her in so long. But I love you the best."

  The mother kissed her fondly. No one, not even her husband, who was sograteful for the sacrifice she had made, knew how hard a trial it hadbeen to her.

  Just as they were considering whether they could leave Annis at schooland do without her, word came from the Pineries. Mrs. Floyd had asudden stroke, not so very severe, but at her time of life a seriousmatter.

  Young Mrs. Floyd and her husband and Varina came North a few days afterthis. There was a month of slow wasting away. Mrs. Brandon Floyd had anew baby, Marian was almost worn out, and Mrs. Mason found herself thecomforter again, and much needed. Then grandmamma slipped out of life,and was laid by the side of Mr. Floyd; and Mr. Mason, seconded warmlyby his wife, insisted that Marian should spend the winter with them andrest, perhaps make it her future home.

  Varina was a tall, rather distinguished-looking girl who had blossomedsomewhat prematurely into womanhood. Annis was still a little girlbeside her. She was gay and bright, and full of her own good times.Jaqueline's marriage was delightful; they had enjoyed the account inthe paper. Charles was well again, but what a sad time it had been forhim! As for herself, she and Dolly were the dearest of sisters, andhad had the best of times. She should coax papa to let her return toCharleston. She knew so many people there, and it would be just horridto go back to the old plantation. There were all the others, and surelypapa could spare her.

  Dolly was very exigent as well. Mr. Mason realized that it would bedull for a young girl, with the household in mourning, and Marian halfan invalid and dispirited. But he insisted upon a family gathering atChristmas, as Charles was to come home.

  Mrs. Carrington would fain have had Roger and his wife, and
Mr. BrandonFloyd sent a formal invitation for Jane and her family at the Pineries,but she chose the Masons instead. Marian was pale and grave, butimproving under the fostering care of Mrs. Mason, who was the kindestof sisters. Bessy Collaston had a new little brother; and, with Dolly'sone and Mrs. Jettson's four, there was quite an array of children.

  But the most joyous of all was the welcome to Charles. Now he showedhis real improvement. He had some color in his cheeks and his eyes werebright and lustrous; his voice rang with a clear sound.

  Curiously enough, he seemed almost a stranger to Annis, and not thelittle boy with whom she had poured over Froissart. She had outgrownhim; and as for Varina, she patronized him in a most uncomfortablefashion. They were all so glad to see him well once more that no onethought of teasing him, even when he aired his new-found knowledgeunduly. Perhaps he was most flattered by the friendliness of his bigbrother-in-law Roger.

  Then followed the dispersion. It was best that Annis should stay atschool the coming year, and Jaqueline declared she could not do withouther. Truth to tell, what with her school friends and her variousamusements, Annis began to feel as if Washington was her real home, andthe plantation a place to visit. Her mother had so many long-neglectedduties to take up, and Marian to nurse back to health and betterspirits. She had done without her little girl so long, and clearly thiswas to the child's advantage.

  Meanwhile the war had gone on with varying fortunes, but the navy ofthe country had gained various accessions by capture from the Britishand alterations from the merchant vessels. None of the coast citieshad been attacked. Boston, New York, and Philadelphia had been makingtheir defenses more secure. There was a fine fort at Baltimore. ButWashington made no advances. Congress wrangled over a hundred points.The country at large was losing faith in the administration. Therewas a growing party in favor of suing for peace on the best terms wecould get; another clique were quite certain we would wear out England,as, after all, she had made no real gains, and we had become quiteformidable on the high seas.

  General Armstrong, secretary of war, was confident Washington wouldnot be attacked; and though he admitted that defenses should bestrengthened, very little was done.

  The downfall of Napoleon and his abdication, and the peace with France,had released the flower of the British army, and many warships. Itwas supposed Bermuda was their objective point, but they were readyto harass the coast line from Florida to Maine, and filled many of thetowns with apprehension.