tood, in Rock Creek as she passed over the Georgetown bridge. Mrs.
Charles Worthington, a Catholic friend of mine who was educated at this
same convent, gave me the following explanation of her conduct: There
was an election for Mother Superior, and Miss Wight, deeply disappointed
that she was not chosen to fill the position, was dissatisfied and when
it became her turn to answer the front-door bell, suddenly determined to
leave. She was, however, recognized by one of the priests, who followed
her to General Van Ness's residence, where he insisted upon seeing her.
At first she refused to meet him, but, upon informing the General that
he must learn from her own lips whether her departure was voluntary, she
consented to see him in the presence of her relative. She admitted that
she had in no way been influenced. When I first met Miss Wight she was
more devoted to "the pride, pomp and circumstance" of the world than
many who had not led such deeply religious lives. She was still living
at the residence of General Van Ness, and I have heard that she always
remained a Roman Catholic. During the Everett dinner my escort, Mr.
Philip Griffith, remarked to me in an undertone: "We have an escaped nun
here; are we going to have an _auto da fe_?" I responded that I believed
it to be a matter of record that _autos da fe_ were solely a courtly
amusement.

Mrs. Sidney Brooks, formerly Miss Fanny Dehon of Boston, was another of
Mr. Everett's guests. She was a relative of our host, and it was her
custom to make prolonged visits to the Everett home. Her presence in
Washington was always hailed with delight. She was a pronounced blonde,
and her reputation as a brilliant conversationalist was widely extended.

Rufus Choate was an occasional visitor in Washington subsequent to his
brilliant senatorial career which ended in 1845. That I had the pleasure
of intimately knowing this man of wit and erudition is one of the
brightest memories of my life. His quaint humor was inexhaustible and
some of his bright utterances will never perish. When a younger sister
of mine was lying desperately ill in Washington in 1856 he called to
inquire about her condition, and the tones of his sympathetic voice
still linger in my ear. It has been fittingly said of Mr. Choate that
even one's name uttered by him was in itself a delicate compliment. It
is to him we owe the inspiring quotation, "Keep step to the music of the
Union," which he uttered in his speech be