"Let's tell
mother, come." "What?" I asked. "Why, isn't there something to tell?"
"You haven't promised to marry me." "Oh!" exclaimed Dorothy, "does it
have to be by so many words? Very well, yes." She took my arm and we ran
to the house. We burst upon Mrs. Clayton and told her. "Oh, you
children!" exclaimed Mrs. Clayton, half crying and half laughing. "After
all this delay. I am so happy."
She took me by the shoulders, looked at me, drew me to her, and kissed
me. "Come," she said, "it's time to go to the 'Hermitage.'" And we got
into the phaeton hitched to a gentle old horse which Dorothy drove. We
entered the "Hermitage" and saw Douglas and the company and the hero of
New Orleans.
I presented Douglas to Mrs. Clayton and Dorothy. Then we went forward to
greet Jackson. I was introduced to him and I saw Douglas taken into the
arms of the great warrior and masterful President.
He was now in his 78th year, thin of face, spare of frame, his body all
sinew and nerve, his eyes brilliant with unextinguished fire. I loitered
near to hear what he would say to Douglas. He seemed to have a paternal
pride in the young Congressman. He entwined his arm with Douglas',
patted Douglas on the knee, looked into his brilliant and youthful face.
And after assuring Douglas that his whole life had been a devotion to
the law, he expressed deep gratitude for Douglas' defense.
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