Laura took the card, looked at it intently till she was sure of the address, and then laid it down, with,

“No, he is no friend of ours.”

That afternoon, Laura wrote and dispatched the following note.  It was in a round hand, unlike her flowing style, and it was directed to a number and street in Georgetown:—­

     “A Lady at Senator Dilworthy’s would like to see Col.  George Selby,
     on business connected with the Cotton Claims.  Can he call Wednesday
     at three o’clock P. M.?”

On Wednesday at 3 P. M, no one of the family was likely to be in the house except Laura.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Col.  Selby had just come to Washington, and taken lodgings in Georgetown.  His business was to get pay for some cotton that was destroyed during the war.  There were many others in Washington on the same errand, some of them with claims as difficult to establish as his.  A concert of action was necessary, and he was not, therefore, at all surprised to receive the note from a lady asking him to call at Senator Dilworthy’s.

At a little after three on Wednesday he rang the bell of the Senator’s residence.  It was a handsome mansion on the Square opposite the President’s house.  The owner must be a man of great wealth, the Colonel thought; perhaps, who knows, said he with a smile, he may have got some of my cotton in exchange for salt and quinine after the capture of New Orleans.  As this thought passed through his mind he was looking at the remarkable figure of the Hero of New Orleans, holding itself by main strength from sliding off the back of the rearing bronze horse, and lifting its hat in the manner of one who acknowledges the playing of that martial air:  “See, the Conquering Hero Comes!” “Gad,” said the Colonel to himself, “Old Hickory ought to get down and give his seat to Gen. Sutler—­but they’d have to tie him on.”

Laura was in the drawing room.  She heard the bell, she heard the steps in the hall, and the emphatic thud of the supporting cane.  She had risen from her chair and was leaning against the piano, pressing her left hand against the violent beating of her heart.  The door opened and the Colonel entered, standing in the full light of the opposite window.  Laura was more in the shadow and stood for an instant, long enough for the Colonel to make the inward observation that she was a magnificent Woman.  She then advanced a step.

“Col.  Selby, is it not?”

The Colonel staggered back, caught himself by a chair, and turned towards her a look of terror.

“Laura?  My God!”

“Yes, your wife!”

“Oh, no, it can’t be.  How came you here?  I thought you were—­”

“You thought I was dead?  You thought you were rid of me?  Not so long as you live, Col.  Selby, not so long as you live;” Laura in her passion was hurried on to say.