This conversation occurred in a scene and upon an occasion long to be remembered. The scene was the saloon of the old Presidential mansion at Philadelphia. The occasion was that of Mrs. Washington’s last reception, previous to the final retirement of General Washington from office. The beauty, talent, fashion and celebrity of the “Republican Court” were present--heroes of the Revolutionary struggle--warriors, whose mighty swords had cleft asunder the yoke of foreign despotism; sages, whose gigantic minds had framed the Constitution of the young Republic; men whose names were then, as now, of world-wide glory and time-enduring fame; foreign ministers and ambassadors, with their suites, all enthusiastic admirers, or politic flatterers of the glorious New Power that had arisen among the nations; wealthy, aristocratic or otherwise distinguished tourists, whom the fame of the young Commonwealth and the glory of her Father had attracted to her shores; women, also, whose beauty, grace and genius so dazzled the perceptions of even these late _habitues_ of European courts that they avowed themselves unable to decide whether were the sons of Columbia the braver or her daughters the fairer! And through them all, but greater than all, moved the Chief, arrayed simply, as a private gentleman, but wearing on his noble brow that royalty no crown could give. But who is she, that even in this company of splendid magnificence, upon this occasion of supreme interest, can for an hour become the magnet of all eyes and ears!