Theo started to reply, but the words wavered and died away. Two tall men walked quickly into the drawing-room together. But her eyes slid over the first one blindly.

Lewis stood motionless, a foot or two behind his chief. He was in his dress uniform as she had first seen him—blue coat with red facings, dead white vest and breeches, white bindings and buttons, the white Captain's epaulette on his right shoulder. His hands were gloved in white, too, contributing to the impression of severe immaculateness. His high black boots, the dangling scabbard, and very tall stiff collar added to his already considerable height.

Her heart dissolved within her, as he gave her one long penetrating glance, a half-smile, and then looked away. Confused, she gazed quickly at the others, half-expecting that they would be staring at Meme with the same transfixed admiration that she felt. He was so commanding, so impressive. He dwarfed all the other men.

But the company was not looking at Lewis, it was greeting Jefferson, who leisurely progressed from one to another bidding them 'Good evening'. As he approached her, she understood the angry gasp which she heard issue from the Marquis, who stood behind her.

The President, pursuant to his stubborn policy of 'no fuss or feathers, simplicity and democracy before all else,' had come to them straight from his study.

His big loose-jointed frame appeared shrunken inside a wrinkled brown coat, that looked as though he had visited the stables in it—as indeed he had. His thin sandy hair was indifferently combed, there were inkstains on his fingers. Far worse than all this was his footgear, and Theo reflected Dolly Madison's look of dismay when she discovered, as did all the guests with varying degrees of horror, that the President, whose corns hurt him, was shuffling about in heelless and stained carpet slippers that made small flapping noises on the bare floor.

Even Dolly, who was accustomed to the President's deliberate indifference to dress, was stricken dumb by this innovation. The reactions of the cabinet members present did not, of course, matter. But the diplomats would be outraged: were outraged already. The French and Spanish Ministers, for once in accord, stared pointedly at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Their gold frills and perfumed laces quivered indignantly.

'I am sorry to have kept you waiting, ladies and gentlemen. It was unavoidable. You must all be hungry. We will go down to dinner at once, informally,' said Jefferson.

Dolly sighed. 'Another one of these higgledy-piggledy dinners,' she murmured to Theo. 'If he would only let me or Captain Lewis seat the guests properly. But he likes them mixed up together. I vow he makes a fetish of informality.'

'You mean I may sit where—with whom I like?' asked Theo, her color deepening.

Dolly had time to nod before the President returned smiling. 'Come, Mrs. Madison,' he said, capturing her arm, 'we will lead the way.'