CHAPTER XX.
THE LADY FROM MEXICO As soon as women are ours, we are no longer theirs.
-- Montaigne.
After a time my chief reentered the office room and bent over me at my table.

I put before him the draft of the document which he had given me for clerical care.
"So," he said, "'tis ready--our declaration.

I wonder what may come of that little paper!" "Much will come of it with a strong people back of it.

The trouble is only that what Democrat does, Whig condemns.

And not even all our party is with Mr.Tyler and yourself in this, Mr.Calhoun.Look, for instance, at Mr.Polk and his plans." To this venture on my part he made no present answer.
"I have no party, that is true," said he at last--"none but you and Sam Ward!" He smiled with one of his rare, illuminating smiles, different from the cold mirth which often marked him.
"At least, Mr.Calhoun, you do not take on your work for the personal glory of it," said I hotly; "and one day the world will know it!" "'Twill matter very little to me then," said he bitterly.