It seemed best to play out the hand as I had dealt it.

After all, I could make a case if I faced it out.
The guard at the door refused me access to General Dana.

Driven by a nearby hackman to the General's residence, and, boldly asking for Mrs.
Dana, I was more successful.

I introduced myself as a teacher of music seeking to return to my friends in the North, working in a word about the old Washington days, not forgetting "Charley" and "Mamie." The dear little woman was heartily responsive.

Both were there, including a pretty girl from Philadelphia, and she called them down.