We had the good fortune to secure pleasant rooms in the large boarding-house of Mrs. Tully Wise, sister of Henry A. Wise of Virginia. Mrs. Wise had a number of agreeable people in her house: Professor and Mrs. Spenser Baird of the Smithsonian Institution; Professor Baird's assistants,—Mr. Turner, an Englishman, and a Swiss naturalist whom Professor Baird addressed as "George,"—Mr. James Heth, Commissioner of Pensions, and his family; Commodore Pennock and his wife, sister of Mrs. (Admiral) Farragut, and others. I must not forget Miss Dick, whose rooms were above mine, and who hovered around like the plump, busy little bird that she was. A long table in the dining-room was filled with "new" people—desirable possibly, but not known by us. There were the nouveau riche party from New York, the tall, angular, large-limbed, passée young woman and her fat mamma; there were the well-groomed government clerk and his stylish young wife; a French count, a German baron; a physician (Dr. McNalty), and a beautiful dark-eyed young lady who always wore a camellia in her dusky hair, Miss —well, let her be "Miss Vernon," with her father. Lesser lights plenty—a large number in all.

Then Mrs. Wise herself gathered pleasant men and women around her. In her little parlor we met 92Dr. Yelverton Garnett, our devoted friend in all his after life—Mrs. Garnett, daughter of Henry A. Wise, and a charming young sister, Annie Wise. Our hostess was a widow, well born and good, who was educating, alone and unaided, five splendid boys, who lived to reward her by their own worth and success.

We were made thoroughly comfortable, and I soon learned that the "man behind the gun," to whom it behooved me to be civil, was the head waiter, Patrick, tall, black, stern, and unyielding. No use in trying blandishments on Patrick! If one were starved, having overstayed appointed hours, she must fast until the next meal or find refreshment elsewhere. I once complained to Mrs. Wise,—that I lost the sweetest hour in the late afternoon for my stroll on Pennsylvania Avenue; and represented the perfect ease with which Patrick could keep my tea for me. She listened with sympathy to the oft-told tale.

"Well, you know, my dear," she said kindly, "Patrick—now you know Patrick is so good! There's nobody like Patrick! He has some trouble, with all those strangers to serve. I know you would like to help Patrick! Yes, to be sure, it would seem to be a simple thing to set aside a biscuit and bit of cold tongue for you, and keep the kettle hot on the hearth,—but you see Patrick,—well, he is so good, you'll not have the heart to trouble him! And dear! I think you will yourself choose to be indoors early here in Washington."

The one who was "dear" was Mrs. Wise—the noblest and best of women.

Very soon I found that with all these pieces upon 93the board, a lively game might be expected. Miss Dick, whose brother was employed by the government, soon enlightened me: the rich New York girl wanted a title. She was "trying to catch" the baron, and would succeed, "as nobody else wanted either of them." Miss Vernon was dying for love of Dr. McNalty. She was going into a decline. Probably the doctor was ignorant of the state of things. Such a beautiful girl—a perfect lady! Somebody ought to speak to the doctor. She, (Miss Dick) couldn't. Nobody would listen to an old maid—"perhaps you, Mrs. Pryor"—("Oh, mercy, no")—well, then, poor girl! The French count was flirting with the wife of the government clerk. Her husband would find her out, never fear! There was danger of a hostile meeting before the winter was over. Then that hateful old Dr. Todkin, with his straw-colored wig! To be sure, she and some others liked the parlors kept dark—but what business had he to say he hoped some lady would come who "liked the light and could bear the light!" Such Dutch impertinence!

I received these confidences of Miss Dick in my own rooms, for I soon learned, with Mrs. Baird and Mrs. Heth, that the public drawing-room was no place for me.

"Gossip!" said they. "It has gone beyond gossip! The air is thick with something worse. You might cut it with a knife."

But it was not long before we had a ripple in our own calm waters. On one side of me at our round table sat Mr. George, the eccentric, small, intense 94Swiss naturalist, who amused me much by affecting to be a woman-hater.

"Not that they concern me," he said, "but,—well, I find fishes more interesting. I understand them better."

Beside my husband was placed our special pet, Maria Heth, taken under our wing in the absence of her parents, neither of whom ever appeared. The circle was completed by Professor and Mrs. Baird, little Lucy Baird, and Mr. Turner. In course of time my right-hand man fell into silence, broken by long-drawn sighs. I supposed he had lost a "specimen," or failed to find enough bones in some fish he was to classify, or maybe heard bad news from home, or belike had a toothache; so, after a few essays on my part to encourage him, I let him alone. Presently his place at the board was ............