handsome women, gorgeous old ladies; there were officers of the army and of the navy in their full-dress uniforms; there were the diplomatic corps of all foreign nations in the costumes of their several ranks and countries; there were grave senators and wise judges and holy divines; there were Indian chiefs in their beads and blankets; there were adventurous Poles from Warsaw; exiled Bourbons from Paris; and Comanche braves from the Cordilleras!  There was, in fact, such a curious assemblage as can be met with nowhere on the face of the earth but in the east drawing room of our President’s palace on a great reception evening!

Into this motley but splendid assemblage Judge Merlin led his beautiful daughter.  At first her entrance attracted no attention; but when one, and then another, noticed the dazzling new star of beauty that had so suddenly risen above their horizon, a whisper arose that soon grew into a general buzz of admiration that attended Claudia in her progress through the room and heralded her approach to those at the upper end.  And—­

“Who is she?” “Who can she be?” were the low-toned questions that reached her ear as her father led her to a sofa and rested her upon it.  But these questions came only from those who were strangers in Washington.  Of course all others knew the person of Judge Merlin, and surmised the young lady on his arm to be his daughter.

Soon after the judge and his party were seated, his friends began to come forward to pay their respects to him, and to be presented to his beautiful daughter.

Claudia received all these with a self-possession, grace, and fascination peculiarly her own.

There was no doubt about it—­Miss Merlin’s first entrance into society had been a great success; she had made a sensation.

Among those presented to Miss Merlin on that occasion was the Honorable ——­ ——­, the British minister.  He was young, handsome, accomplished, and a bachelor.  Consequently he was a target for all the shafts of Cupid that ladies’ eyes could send.

He offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through the room.  She accepted it, and became as much the envy of every unmarried lady present as if the offer made and accepted had been for a promenade through life.

No such thought, however, was in the young English minister’s mind; for after making the circuit of the room two or three times, he brought his companion back, and, with a smile and a bow, left her in the care of her father.

But if the people were inclined to feed their envy, they found plenty of food for that appetite.  A few minutes after Miss Merlin had resumed her seat a general buzz of voices announced some new event of interest.  It turned out to be the entrance of the President and his family into the East Room.

For some good reason or other, known only to his own friendly heart, the President, sauntering leisurely, dispensing bows, smiles, and kind words as he passed, went straight up to the sofa whereon his old friend, Judge Merlin, sat, took a seat beside him, and entered into conversation.