"But come, sirs," suddenly exclaimed Mr. Jefferson, "our discussion of Mr. Morris's good points must wait, for I see Mrs. Carr looking at you, Colonel. If you will pay your respects to her, I will be with you in a few moments. As for you, sir," he went on, speaking to the youth he called Ned and regarded so affectionately, "you are but wasting your time. You should be talking with some of these pretty young women. Shall we say Miss Molly Crenshawe, who is certainly looking most beautiful this evening? or perhaps the dashing Miss Peggy?" He glanced keenly at the youth, who retained all his serene indifference of manner, only blushing slightly and shaking his head.

Mr. Jefferson laughed indulgently. "Ned, Ned, you were ever a shy youth, and I think time does nothing to help you. Tis a crime to be as indifferent to women as you are, and, I warn you, there will come a day when some woman will revenge herself upon you for the whole s.e.x, and, when that happens, do not come to me for consolation!" He moved away, still laughing, and left the boy to pay his respects to Mrs. Carr, with whom he was a great favorite, as he was with all who knew him well. But he never had a large circle of friends. There were but few who ever really understood and thoroughly appreciated that n.o.ble character. It is the compensation of such natures that they are self-sufficing and are as indifferent of such recognition as they are superior to it.

As Mr. Jefferson pa.s.sed down the room he was stopped by Mr. Gilbert Stuart, who touched him on the arm.

"Mr. Jefferson," he exclaimed, in eager tones, "take pity on an exile just returned and tell me who your young friend is. I had thought Mr.

Hamilton's one of the finest faces I had ever seen until I set eyes on this young gentleman with him. And, indeed, I think they resemble one another vastly. Has our young West Indian at last found a relative? I hear he is but indifferently provided with that commodity. No? Well, I protest his young friend has the most charming countenance I have ever seen since I painted Mr. Grant in London."

"Which portrait, Mr. Stuart, I hear is a masterpiece and has added enormously to your reputation." Mr. Stuart bowed low at the compliment, well pleased that Mr. Jefferson should have heard so favorably of that wonderful picture of his which had set all London gossiping and had caused Mr. Benjamin West and Sir Joshua Reynolds (so 'twas said) some pangs of envy. "As for myself, however," went on Mr. Jefferson, "I can scarcely credit that it is a greater piece of work than the portrait of General Washington which you have executed for the Marquis of Lansdowne at Mr. William Bingham's request. I cannot express to you how greatly the replica of that picture pleases me. Its arrival here has been kept a profound secret from all save my sister, but I am getting as impatient as a child to show it to my guests, and can scarcely wait for the supper-hour to arrive."

"I sincerely hope, sir, both as an artist and a friend, that the surprise you have planned will not turn into a disappointment. But you have not yet told me, Mr. Jefferson, who the interesting young gentleman is with Mrs. Carr."

"That," said Mr. Jefferson, looking kindly toward the youth beside his sister, "is young Calvert of Strath.o.r.e, and a finer young gentleman does not live in Virginia--no, nor in any other state of this country," he added, warmly. "He is of the famous Baltimore family, a direct descendant of Leonard Calvert, cadet brother of the second Lord Baltimore, and is the bearer of my Lord Baltimore's name, Cecil Calvert, to which has been prefixed Edward, for his father. The family came to this country in 1644, I believe, and for several generations lived in the colony of Maryland, and have always been people of position and wealth. Ned's father, however, had a serious disagreement with his family, because of his marriage with a lovely young Quakeress of Philadelphia, and finally broke off entirely from his people, renouncing even the long-cherished Catholic faith, and came to Virginia when their only child was about two years old. Mr. Calvert built a s.p.a.cious, comfortable residence on the banks of the Potomac not far from Mr.

Washington's residence, calling it 'Strath.o.r.e,' after the older Maryland place."

"What a head!" murmured Mr. Stuart, looking at the young man. "What sincerity and quiet strength! But continue, I beg of you."

"There is little to tell--some six years after removing to Virginia, Calvert's father and mother both suddenly died, leaving the poor boy estranged from the only relatives he had in Maryland, but, fortunately, under the guardianship of General Washington, who has been all kindness toward him. Madame Washington would have taken him to Mount Vernon had it not been for the father's wish that he should grow up on his own estate, alone save for the excellent tutors with whom he has always been provided. But he has ever been warmly welcomed at Mount Vernon on long visits there, and both General and Madame Washington have become greatly attached to him. It was through them I first knew and liked him, and he has pa.s.sed many, I hope not unhappy, weeks at Monticello with me since.

'Tis that curious and melancholy resemblance in their fate--both orphaned and solitary--which, I fancy, had much to do with the firm friendship that has sprung up between Colonel Hamilton and Calvert. But though in appearance and circ.u.mstance they resemble each other, in mental characteristics they are opposites. Calvert has none of Hamilton's brilliancy of intellect and vividness of imagination" (for whatever their bitter disagreements were later, Mr. Jefferson, then and for many years afterward, was always ready to acknowledge and admire Hamilton's superb genius), "but he is of a profound logical order of intelligence; he has good judgment and discretion, indomitable will power, and a n.o.bility of aim and faithfulness of purpose that are as rare as they are admirable. I can conceive of no circ.u.mstances in which he might be placed where his reliability and firmness would prove inadequate to the occasion."

"His face bears out what you tell me of him, Mr. Jefferson," a.s.sented the young artist, who was regarding Calvert with increasing interest.

"Tis a fine countenance, and I shall not be happy until I have transferred it to canvas. I shall have to beg a few sittings of Calvert of Strath.o.r.e!"

Mr. Jefferson smiled. "I am afraid, Mr. Stuart, that you will find it difficult to persuade Ned that he has a 'fine countenance'! He is the soul of modesty as he is the soul of truth and honor." He stopped and looked affectionately at young Calvert, who was still beside Madame Carr, unconscious of the close scrutiny he was undergoing. "I hardly know how to describe him to you," continued Mr. Jefferson, meditatively.

"His is a n.o.ble and lovable character. I never look at him but these lines from Horace come to my mind--'_Quam desederio sit pudor aut modus tam cari capitis'_! I can only say that had I been blessed with a son,"

and he sighed as he spoke, "I would have wished him to be like Edward Calvert, and, believe me, 'tis not partiality that makes me speak of him in such fashion. General Washington and Colonel Hamilton and Monsieur de Lafayette, under whom he served at Yorktown, hold him as I do. Gentle and tractable as he is, the lad has plenty of spirit, and ran away from the College of New Jersey in 1780, where he had been matriculated but two months, and, presenting himself to his guardian and friend, General Washington, begged to be permitted to fight for his country. He was scarce fifteen, and Dr. Witherspoon, whom, as you doubtless know, our good friend Henry Laurens persuaded to leave Edinburgh to take charge of the College at Princeton, violently opposed his abandoning his studies, but the young man was determined, and was finally commissioned as an aide to General Lafayette. He was of particular service to both Lafayette and Rochambeau, as he understands and speaks the French language excellently, having studied it since childhood and speaking much with a French tutor whom he had for some years. He is to return to the College of Princeton in the fall of this year, and finish his studies. For though he will be nineteen years of age when he enters, yet such is his determination to get the college education which his service to his country interrupted, that he is resolved to recommence now at the age when most youths have finished their studies. And if at the end of his college course my duties still detain me abroad, 'tis my intention and dearest wish to have him come out to me, and I promise you he will make me as efficient a secretary as ever Hamilton made General Washington."

"All that you tell me only increases my interest in the young gentleman, Mr. Jefferson," said Stuart, "and I am more determined than ever to have him sit for me. I can see the picture," he went on, eagerly--"the fine, youthful brow and wavy hair drawn loosely back and slightly powdered, the blue eyes, aquiline nose, and firm mouth--the chin is a trifle delicate but the jaw is square--" he was speaking half to himself, noting in artist fashion the salient points of a countenance at once attractive and handsome, not so much by reason of beautiful features as because of the expression which was at once youthful, serene, and n.o.ble.

All these points were afterward portrayed by Mr. Stuart, though it was not until many years later that the picture was executed, Mr. Stuart being recalled almost immediately to London, where, indeed, Calvert finally sat to him. That likeness, done in the most admirable fashion, came later into the possession of one of Calvert's dearest friends and greatest admirers, and was prized above most things by one who loved the original so deeply and so long.

"And he has other attractions," said Mr. Jefferson, after a long pause, during which the two gentlemen regarded young Calvert, the artist absorbed in plans for his picture, Mr. Jefferson in affectionate thoughts of the young man so dear to his heart. "He has one of the clearest, freshest voices that you ever heard, Mr. Stuart; a voice that matches his face and makes one believe in youth and happiness and truth.

Why should he not sing for us?" he exclaimed. "The dancing has ceased, I see. Come, I will ask him."

Followed by Mr. Stuart, he went over to young Calvert, who was still standing sentinel beside Madame Carr, and clapped him affectionately on the shoulder.

"Ned, we demand a song! Come, no refusal, sir!" he exclaimed. "I shall send Caesar for my Amati and you must sing us something. Shall it be 'The La.s.s with the Delicate Air'? That is my favorite, I think. 'Tis, as you know, Mr. Stuart, by the late Dr. Arne, the prince of song-writers.

Here, boy!" he said, turning to one of the small darkies standing about to snuff the candles, "tell Caesar to bring me 'Pet.'"--for it was thus he called his violin, which had been saved by Caesar's devotion and bravery when all else at Elk Hill was destroyed by order of my Lord Cornwallis. While this was going forward Calvert stood by silent, outwardly calm and unruffled, inwardly much perturbed. It was his pleasure and habit to sing for Mr. Jefferson or for General and Madame Washington, but it was something of an ordeal to sing before an audience. That quiet heroism, though, which was part of his character, and which made him accept tranquilly everything, from the most trifling inconvenience to the greatest trials, kept him from raising any objection.

As Mr. Jefferson drew his bow across his violin the company fell away from the centre of the room, leaving a clear s.p.a.ce. Stepping forward he leaned over his beloved Amati and played the opening bars of Dr. Arne's famous ballad, with its liquid phrases and quaint intervals of melody.

At the first notes of the air Calvert stood beside him and lifted up his fresh young voice of thrilling sweetness. It was one of those naturally beautiful voices, which at this time and for many years longer had a charm that none could resist, and which helped, among other things, to earn for him the everlasting jealousy of that remarkable and versatile scoundrel, Monsieur le Baron de St. Aulaire.

"I protest, sir," cried Mr. Gilbert from his place beside Miss Crenshawe, when the bow at last dropped from the quivering strings, "I protest I have not heard such music since St. George and Garat played and sang together in Paris!"

Monsieur de Lafayette laid his hand affectionately on Calvert's shoulder. "Ah, Ned," he said in his English with the strong accent, "that was sweet, but if I mistake me not, thy voice sounded even sweeter to my ears as thou sangst thy songs around the campfires at night after our long marches and counter-marches when we hung upon Cornwallis's flank or raced toward Petersburg to beat Phillips! 'Twas a very girl's voice then, but it could make us forget fatigue and danger and homesickness!"

"I am glad to believe that I was of some service," said Calvert. "I have often thought," he went on, smiling a little, "that had I not been under the protection of General Washington I should never have been permitted to make the campaign."

But the Marquis would have none of his modesty.

"No, no," he cried, "thou knowest thou wert my favorite aide and served me faithfully and well. Dost thou not remember the many messages thou didst carry to General Rochambeau for me when we lay before Yorktown?

And the friends thou hadst in his army? De Beaufort and d'Azay were among the best, is it not so? But what is this?" he inquired, suddenly, as he saw the middle of the long room cleared and a very army of slaves approaching bearing an immense table already laid with fine damask and silver.

"Madame Carr evidently thinks her guests are in need of refreshment after these wearying musical performances," replied Calvert, laughing, "and as we are too numerous to be entertained in the dining-room, supper is to be served here. 'Tis frequently Mr. Jefferson's fashion when his company is large."

With little formality the guests took their places at table, the ladies all being seated and many of the older gentlemen. The younger ones stood about and waited upon the ladies, contenting themselves by eating after they were served, as they hung over their chairs and conversed with them.

Calvert with Beaufort and d'Azay were busily occupied, the French officers devoting themselves to the wants of the beautiful Miss Peggy Gary and Miss Molly Crenshawe, Calvert gravely seeing that the elderly Mrs. Mason, mother of Mr. Jefferson's great friend, Mr. George Mason, Mrs. Wythe, and other dowagers were bountifully supplied. It was like him to pa.s.s by the young beauties to attend upon those who had greater needs and less attractions. From his position behind the dowagers' chairs he could catch bits of conversation from both ends of the table. Now it was Mr. Jefferson's voice, rising above the noise, talk, and laughter, offering some excellent Madeira to his abstemious friend, Mr. Arkwright.

"I insist," urged Mr. Jefferson, "for upon my word 'tis true, as someone has said, that water has tasted of sinners ever since the Flood!"

Now it was Mr. Madison who arose, gla.s.s in hand, to propose a toast to Mr. Jefferson.

It was not a very eloquent farewell, but, as he said, "the message comes from all hearts present, and the burden of it is a safe journey, great achievement, and a speedy return."

When Mr. Jefferson rose to respond, then, indeed, was heard eloquence.

Toward the close of his brief reply there was a note of sadness in it.

"I have ever held it the first duty of a patriot to submit himself to the commands of his country. My command has been to leave my country. I would that it had been otherwise--but my country before all! And should I be able to serve her in ever so little by going, no separation from all I love best, no loss of ease and quiet pleasures, will be too costly for me not to bear with resignation, nay, even with cheerfulness! I shall take with me one hostage to happiness--my daughter--and should my splendid exile to the greatest court of Europe be prolonged and my duties become too arduous, I shall send to these sh.o.r.es for one to aid me--one on whose fidelity and zeal I can rely--for my dear young friend--Calvert of Strath.o.r.e."

At this unexpected announcement Calvert started with surprise and pleasure, having heard nothing of Mr. Jefferson's intention. "But why should I speak of my exile?" continued Mr. Jefferson. "Shall I not be among friends?" and he looked with affectionate regard toward the three young Frenchmen. "Shall I not be among friends, the truest and n.o.blest that any country or any individual can boast? Your looks bespeak your answer! Friends, I ask you to drink to Monsieur le Marquis de Lafayette and to Messieurs de Beaufort and d'Azay!"

Amid the enthusiastic applause which followed, Lafayette was seen to rise and lift his hand for silence.

"Since the first day we set foot upon this great country," he said, "we have received naught but kindness, aid, honors. How shall we thank you for that in a few words? We cannot, but we can make you a promise for our King, our country, and ourselves. 'Tis this. Mr. Jefferson shall find a welcome and a home in France such as we have found here, an admiration, a respect, a love such as we cannot command. And should Mr.

Calvert come also, he shall be as a brother to us! I drink to our happy reunion in France!"

"So you will come to France, too, Ned," cried d'Azay to Calvert. "I shall claim you as my guest and take you down to our chateau of Azay-le-Roi and show you to my sister Adrienne as a great American savage!"

"You will be blessed if she looks at you out of mere curiosity if for naught else," murmured Beaufort at Calvert's ear, "for she is the prettiest little nun in all France. Show Calvert thy locket, Henri."

Somewhat reluctantly d'Azay pulled forth a small ivory miniature in a gold case, and holding it well within the hollow of his hand, so that others might not see, he laid it before Calvert.

"Is she not a beauty?" demanded Beaufort, eagerly. "More beautiful, I think, than the lovely Miss Shippen of Philadelphia, or Miss Bingham, or any of your famous beauties, Calvert."

It was indeed a beautiful face that Calvert gazed upon, a slender, oval face with violet eyes, shadowed by long, thick lashes; a straight nose with slightly distended nostrils, which, with the curling lips, gave a look of haughtiness to the countenance in spite of its youthfulness. A cloud of dusky hair framed the face, which, altogether, was still extremely immature and (as Calvert thought) capable of developing into n.o.ble loveliness or hardening into unpleasing though striking beauty.

Beaufort still hung over Calvert's shoulder. "She is 'The La.s.s with the Delicate Air' whom you but just now sang of, Calvert," he said, laughing softly. "I wonder who will ever be lucky enough to find a way to win this maid!"

As Calvert stood gazing in silent admiration at the miniature and but half-listening to Beaufort's wild talk, Mr. Jefferson suddenly rose in his place.

"One more toast," he said, in a loud voice--"a toast without which we cannot disperse. Ned, I call on you, who are his young favorite, for a toast to General Washington!"

There was a burst of applause at the name, and then Calvert rose. He was a gallant young figure as he stood there, his wine-gla.s.s uplifted and a serious expression on his boyish face.

"To the one," he cried, after an instant's hesitation, "whom we hold in our hearts to be the bravest of soldiers, the purest of patriots, and the wisest of men--General Washington!"

As he spoke the last words, Mr. Jefferson drew aside a heavy curtain which had hung across the wall behind his chair, and as the velvet fell apart a replica of the famous portrait of General Washington, which Mr.

Stuart had but lately painted for the Marquis of Lansdowne, was revealed to the surprised and delighted guests. Amid a burst of patriotic enthusiasm everyone arose and, with gla.s.s upheld, saluted the great Hero, and then--and for the last time for many years--the Sage of Monticello.