lice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further."

WILLARD'S HOTEL, WASHINGTON, April 10, 1865.

I have looked up the passage, and have written it in above. It haunts
me.

CHAPTER XV. MAN OF SORROW

The train was late--very late. It was Virginia who first caught sight
of the new dome of the Capitol through the slanting rain, but she merely
pressed her lips together and said nothing. In the dingy brick station
of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad more than one person paused to look
after them, and a kind-hearted lady who had been in the car kissed the
girl good-by.

"You think that you can find your uncle's house, my dear?" she asked,
glancing at Virginia with concern. Through all of that long journey she
had worn a look apart. "Do you think you can find your uncle's house?"

Virginia started. And then she smiled as she looked at the honest,
alert, and squarely built gentleman beside her.

"Captain Brent can, Mrs. Ware," she said. "He can find anything."

Whereupon the kind lady gave the Captain her hand. "You look as if you
could, Captain," said she. "Remember, if General Carvel is out of town,
you promised to bring her to me."

"Yes, ma'am," said Captain Lige, "and so I shall."

"Kerridge, kerridge! Right dis-a-way! No sah, dat ain't de kerridge
you wants. Dat's it, lady, you'se lookin at it. Kerridge, kerridge,
kerridge!"

Virginia tried bravely to smile, but she was very near to tears as she
stood on the uneven pavement and looked at the scrawny horses standing
patiently in the steady downpour. All sorts of people were coming
and going, army officers and navy officers and citizens of states and
territories, driving up and driving away.

And this was Washington!

She was thinking then of the multitude who came here with aching
hearts,--with heavier hearts than was hers that day. How many of the
throng hurrying by would not flee, if they could, back to the peaceful
homes they had left? But perhaps those homes were gone now. Destroyed,
like her own, by the war. Women with children at their breasts, and
mothers bowed with sorrow, had sought this city in their agony. Young
men and old had come hither, striving to keep back the thoughts of dear
ones left behind, whom they might never see again. And by the thousands
and tens of thousands they had passed from here to the places of blood
beyond.

"Kerridge, sah! Kerridge!"

"Do you know where General Daniel Carvel lives?"