“Yes, manners, and convictions, and courage—­abolitionist tendencies and fighting proclivities.  She is a firebrand—­a revolutionist, fresh back from the Old World, and armed with weapons of whose use we old fogies are utterly ignorant.  Having apparently nothing to lose whose loss she dreads, she is careless of all consequences.  You, my dear Sir, speak of your moral adherence to some new party.  You consider yourself one of the lamented Free Soil party, and hope a resurrection.  This woman does not pause there—­no.  She comes here to Washington, at precisely the time of our final compromise, when all is peaceful, even slumberous,—­and she preaches the crusade of fire and sword.  My dear friend, if you seek a prophet, here is one; and if you want leadership in your dogma of no slavery north of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, here is prophet and leader in one!—­And, believe me, one with arguments which make her dangerous to one man, two men, or any collection of men.”

The other pondered.  “I have never seen the lady,” he remarked, at length.  “Is she acquainted among the abolitionists of the North?”

“No.  She trains in no one’s camp.  Indeed, socially she has been neglected in the North, for reasons said to have been urged in diplomatic circles.”

“Something of an intrigante, eh?”

“At least enough to excite the anger and suspicion of Austria, the interest of England, the concern of France;—­that’s all!”

“Of what age is she?”

“Of about that age, my dear Sir, which our children or grandchildren might claim.  I should say, twenty-three, twenty-four,—­not over twenty-six, perhaps.  It is difficult to say.  I have met her but rarely.”

“You have me at disadvantage, even so,” smiled the other.  “It is, however, unnecessary for you to settle your cravat.  It is quite straight; and besides, I think we are quite safe from intrusion of women here.”

“You have never met this fair enthusiast?  You are behind the times!” retorted the wily Kentuckian.  “Perhaps you would like that honor?  I think it could be arranged.  Indeed,” he added, after a moment spent in careful study of his companion’s face, “I would even undertake to arrange it.  My dear Sir, with your well known charm of manner with men, and women as well, you could in that case win the lasting plaudits of your country, if you but possessed the resolution!”

“In a cause so noble, I would do what I might!  But what is the cause?  And is it proper for one of my place to engage in it?”

“You could, I say, be hailed by the administration in power, not as the Father of your Country, perhaps, but as its savior.  Take this woman out of our camp, and into your own.  Flock your own fowl together, you Free Soilers!  Take her out of Washington, get her back to Europe—­where she belongs,—­and, without jesting, my dear Sir, you shall have the backing next year, two years hence—­in 1853,—­any