“Well, well,” said the President, “I suppose I must go. Good-by, Miss Cynthia,” said he, taking the girl's hand warmly. “Good-by, Comrade. If ever you want to see General Grant, just send in your name. Good-by.” The President lifted his hat politely to Cynthia and passed. He said something to the senator which they did not hear, and the senator laughed heartily. Ephraim and Cynthia watched them until they were out of sight. “Godfrey!” exclaimed Ephraim, “they told me he was hard to talk to. Why, Cynthy, he's as simple as a child.” “I've always thought that all great men must be simple,” said Cynthia; “Uncle Jethro is.” “To think that the President of the United States stood talkin' to us on the sidewalk for half an hour,” said Ephraim, clutching Cynthia's arm. “Cynthy, I'm glad we didn't press that post-office matter it was worth more to me than all the post-offices in the Union to have that talk with General Grant.” They waited some time longer under the tree, happy in the afterglow of this wonderful experience. Presently a clock struck twelve. “Why, it's dinner-time, Cynthy,” said Ephraim. “I guess Jethro haint' a-comin'--must hev b'en delayed by some of them politicians.” “It's the first time I ever knew him to miss an appointment,” said Cynthia, as they walked back to the hotel. Jethro was not in the corridor, so they passed on to the dining room and looked eagerly from group to group. Jethro was not there, either, but Cynthia heard some one laughing above the chatter of the guests, and drew back into the corridor. She had spied the Duncans and the Worthingtons making merry by themselves at a corner table, and it was Somers's laugh that she heard. Bob, too, sitting next to Miss Duncan, was much amused about something. Suddenly Cynthia's exaltation over the incident of the morning seemed to leave her, and Bob Worthington's words which she had pondered over in the night came back to her with renewed force. He did not find it necessary to steal away to see Miss Duncan. Why should he have “stolen away” to see her? Was it because she was a country girl, and poor? That was true; but on the other hand, did she not live in the sunlight, as it were, of Uncle Jethro's greatness, and was it not an honor to come to his house and see any one? And why had Mr. Worthington turned hid back on Jethro, and sent for Bob when he was talking to them? Cynthia could not understand these things, and her pride was sorely wounded by them. “Perhaps Jethro's in his room,” suggested Ephraim. And indeed they found him there seated on the bed, poring over some newspapers, and both in a breath demanded where he had been. Ephraim did not wait for an answer. “We seen General Grant, Jethro,” he cried; “while we was waitin' for you under the tree he come up and stood talkin' to us half an hour. Full half an hour, wahn't it, Cynthy?” “Oh, yes,” answered Cynthia, forgetting her own grievance at the recollection; “only it didn't seem nearly that long.”