ling in her anger.

[Illustration: "'Mistah Thomas Jeffahson!' was his sole announcement"]

They turned once more to the Spanish minister, who, with his American
wife, stood at hand. There ensued such shrugs and liftings of eyebrows
as left full evidence of a discontent that none of the four attempted
to suppress.

Meriwether Lewis saw and noted, but seemed not to note. Mr. Merry
suddenly remembered him now as the young man he had encountered that
morning, and turned with an attempt at greater civility.

"You will understand, sir, that I came supposing I was to appear in my
official capacity. We were invited upon that basis. There was to have
been a dinner, was there not--or am I mistaken of the hour? Is it not
four in the afternoon?"

"You were quite right, Mr. Minister," said Meriwether Lewis. "You
shall, of course, be presented to the President so soon as it shall
please his convenience to join us. He has been occupied in many
duties, and begs you will excuse him."

The dignity and courtesy of the young man were not without effect.
Silence, at least, was his reward from the perturbed and indignant
group of diplomats penned behind the davenport.

Matters stood thus when, at a time when scarce another soul could have
been crowded into the anteroom, old Henry flung open the folding doors
which he had closed.

"Mistah Thomas Jeffahson!" was his sole announcement.

There appeared in the doorway the tall, slightly stooped figure of the
President of the United States, one of the greatest men of his own or
of any day. He stood, gravely unconscious of himself, tranquilly
looking out upon his gathered guests. He was still clad in the garb
which he had worn throughout the day--the same in which he had climbed
to the pigeon loft--the same in which he had labored during all these
long hours.

His coat was still brown and wrinkled, hanging loosely on his long
frame. His trousers were the stained velveteens of the morning; his
waistcoat the same faded red; his hose the slack woolen pair that he
had worn throughout the day. And upon his feet--horror of horrors!--he
wore still his slippers, the same old carpet slippers, down at the
heel, which had afforded him ease as he sat at his desk.

As Thomas Jefferson stood, he overtopped the men about him head and
shoulders in physical stature, as he did in every other measure of a
man.

Innocent or unconscious of his own appearance, his eye seeking for
knowledge of his guests