the authorities in Washington.
This incident, occurring as it did in a crowded room, was observed by
many of the guests and naturally created much comment. In talking over
the incident the next day Mrs. Clinton told me she was under the
impression that Mr. Van Buren clearly understood her feelings in regard
to him, as some years previous, when he and General Andrew Jackson
called upon her together, she had declined to see him, although Jackson
had been admitted. This act was characteristic of the woman. It was the
expression of a resentment which she had harbored against Mr. Van Buren
for years and which she was only abiding her time to display. I was
standing at Mrs. Clinton's side during this dramatic episode, and to my
youthful fancy she seemed, indeed, a heroine!

Mrs. Clinton was a social leader in Gotham before the days of the
_nouveaux riches_, and her sway was that of an autocrat. Her presence
was in every way imposing. She possessed many charming characteristics
and was in more respects than one an uncrowned queen, retaining her
wonderful tact and social power until the day of her death. I love to
dwell upon Mrs. Clinton because, apart from her remarkable personal
characteristics, she was the friend of my earlier life. Possessed as she
was of many eccentricities, her excellencies far counterbalanced them.
Of the latter, I recall especially the unusual ability and care she
displayed in housekeeping, which at that time was regarded as an
accomplishment in which every woman took particular pride. To be still
more specific, she apparently had a much greater horror of dirt than the
average housewife, and carried her antipathy to such an extent that she
tolerated but few fires in her University Place establishment in New
York, as she seriously objected to the uncleanness caused by the dust
and ashes! No matter how cold her house nor how frigid the day, she
never seemed to suffer but, on the contrary, complained that her home
was overheated. Her guests frequently commented upon "the nipping and
eager air" which Shakespeare's Horatio speaks of, but it made no
apparent impression upon their hostess.

Mrs. Clinton's articulation was affected by a slight stammer, which, in
my opinion, but added piquancy to her epigrammatic sayings. She once
remarked to me, "I shall never be c-c-cold until I'm dead." An impulse
took possession of me which somehow, in spite of the great difference in
our ages, I seemed unable to resist, an