There were several attractive shops in Georgetown, and the hairdressing seemed to be brisk, judging from numerous signs. In one window were wigs of various colors from fair to dark. Indeed, there had been a great era of wigs for both men and women, and especially among the fair sex, who thought even two wigs much cheaper than the continual bills of the hairdresser, when they were crisped into curls, pinned up in puffs, and a great crown laid on top of the head, built up in the artifices known to fashion, to be surmounted by feathers. The wide hoop was diminishing as well, and graceful figures were likely to be once more the style. The dinner-hour in most society families was at two, and at the Carringtons' it was quite a stately meal, with often an unexpected guest, made just as welcome as if by invitation. And to-day a Mr. and Mrs. Hudson had driven up from Alexandria--old friends who had many things to inquire about after a winter of seclusion, and most eager to learn how the new President had been received, and whether there would really be war. No one was in a hurry. People truly lived then. Patricia thought it rather stupid, as no one referred to her with any question or comment; even Mr. Ralph, who had proved so entertaining all the morning, scarcely noticed her, as he had to play the host. But Jaqueline quite shone. When Mrs. Hudson heard she had been at the reception, she must describe not only the ladies and their gowns, but whether Mr. Jefferson was as ready to lay down the cares of state as most people said, and if Mrs. Madison had not aged by the continual demands that had been made upon her. "For she is coming quite to middle life," said Mrs. Hudson. "And could discount fully ten years," returned Ralph. "They all paint and powder, I have heard. So much dissipation cannot be good for women. But, then, she has no children to look after. Her son is at school. It does make a difference if one brings up half a dozen children and has to think of getting them settled in life." She had had her share, good Mistress Hudson. Three daughters to marry, which she had done well; one son to bury; one rambling off, whether dead or alive no one knew; and one still left, a prop for declining years, but his mother was as anxious to keep him single as Mrs. Carrington was that her sons should marry. They had risen from the table, and the horses had been ordered when Mr. Carrington came in. He saw how Jaqueline's face lighted up. "The days are a little longer, and we will have our ride yet," he said in a whispered aside. But there was still some talking to do. Jaqueline made her adieus and went to put on her habit. Standing in the hall above, she waited until patience was a lost virtue. Then Roger Carrington called to her. "I thought they would never go, they prosed and prosed so!" "We shall be old ourselves some day," he returned with a smile, "and perhaps prose while young people are waiting."