A motley throng, indeed! A certain air of gloom at this time hung over official Washington, for the minds of all were still oppressed by the memory of that fatal accident--the explosion of the great cannon "Peacemaker" on board the war vessel _Princeton_--which had killed Mr.Upshur, our secretary of state, with others, and had, at one blow, come so near to depriving this government of its head and his official family; the number of prominent lives thus ended or endangered being appalling to contemplate.

It was this accident which had called Mr.Calhoun forward at a national juncture of the most extreme delicacy and the utmost importance.

In spite of the general mourning, however, the informal receptions at the White House were not wholly discontinued, and the administration, unsettled as it was, and fronted by the gravest of diplomatic problems, made such show of dignity and even cheerfulness as it might.
I considered it my duty to pass in the long procession and to shake the hand of Mr.Tyler.That done, I gazed about the great room, carefully scan-fling the different little groups which were accustomed to form after the ceremonial part of the visit was over.

I saw many whom I knew.

I forgot them; for in a far corner, where a flood of light came through the trailing vines that shielded the outer window, my anxious eyes discovered the object of my quest--Elisabeth.
It seemed to me I had never known her so fair as she was that morning in the great East Room of the White House.