When Dan came down to breakfast he found the Brinkleys at a pleasant place by one of the windows, and after they had exchanged a pleased surprise with him that they should all happen to be in the same hotel, they asked him to sit at their table. There was a bright sun shining, and the ache was gone out of Dan's heart. He began to chatter gaily with Mrs. Brinkley about Washington. “Oh, better come on to Fortress Monroe,” said her husband. “Better come on with us.” “No, I can't just yet,” said Dan. “I've got some business here that will keep me for awhile. Perhaps I may run down there a little later.” “Miss Anderson seems to have a good deal of business in Washington too,” observed Brinkley, with some hazy notion of saying a pleasant rallying thing to the young man. He wondered at the glare his wife gave him. With those panned oysters before him he had forgotten all about Dan's love affair with Miss Pasmer. Mrs. Brinkley hastened to make the mention of Miss Anderson as impersonal as possible. “It was so nice to meet her again. She is such an honest, wholesome creature, and so bright and full of sense. She always made me think of the broad daylight. I always liked that girl.” “Yes; isn't she jolly?” said Dan joyously. “She seems to know everybody here. It's a great piece of luck for me. They're going to take a house in Washington next winter.” “Yes; I know that stage,” said Mrs. Brinkley. “Her aunt's an amusingly New-York respectability. I don't think you'd find just such Miss Mitford curls as hers in all Boston.” “Yes, they are like the portraits, aren't they?” said Dan; delighted. “She's very nice, don't you think?” “Very. But Miss Anderson is more than that. I was disposed to be critical of her at Campobello for a while, but she wore extremely well. All at once you found yourself admiring her uncommon common-sense. “Yes. That's just it,” cried Dan. “She is so sensible!” “I think she's very pretty,” said Mrs. Brinkley. “Well, her nose,” suggested Dan. “It seems a little capricious.” “It's a trifle bizarre, I suppose. But what beautiful eyes! And her figure! I declare that girl's carriage is something superb.” “Yes, she has a magnificent walk.” “Walks with her carriage,” mused Brinkley aloud. His wife did not regard him. “I don't know what Miss Anderson's principles are, but her practices are perfect. I never knew her do an unkind or shabby thing. She seems very good and very wise. And that deep voice of hers has such a charm. It's so restful. You feel as if you could repose upon it for a thousand years. Well! You will get down before we leave?” “Yes, I will,” said Dan. “I'm here after a man who's after a patent, and as soon as I can finish up my business with him I believe I will run down to Fortress Monroe.” “This eleven-o'clock train will get you there at six,” said Brinkley. “Better telegraph for your rooms.” “Or, let us know,” said Mrs. Brinkley, “and we'll secure them for you.” “Oh, thank you,” said Dan.