These words of Catron and his ruffians did not dwell with me seriously; they were the sooner thrust out of mind because the General, not a moment behind Noah's going, came into my room. On hearing of the latter's visit, he was active at first to call him back. But on another thought, he gave that up; full of a new notion of concern to Peg, he would have my view of it. “Now I have a decided humor,” observed the General, throwing himself into Peg's chair--which was consistent enough since he came upon Peg's good--“I have grown to a decided humor that Peg shall rout these carpet Red-sticks who would conspire for her defeat. The more, perhaps, since the chief--if that be fit title for a lady--is wife of our Vice-President, and moving, as she sees it, for his interest of politics against me. Peg must and shall triumph; to lose--aside from what we might personally feel--would spell nothing short of her destruction. And a war, mark you, which combed a country of its last of life, would mean no more for any individual.” “Why then,” I said, “you can not be more deeply set on Peg's success than I.” “Of a truth, no!” retorted the General, with his shrewd grin; “do not imagine I had a doubt of it. But here is what I have been turning in my head for a question. The White House, socially, they tell me, is of immense consequence. Now, I have decided to endow Peg with this coign of vantage to be an aid for her plans. For myself, I shall follow Peg's flag; I shall implicitly take her commands. She shall hold the White House for her reserve; or have it on either wing; or she may head a charge with it.” “And do you think to surprise me with this?” I returned. “I knew how you would thus conduct yourself from the beginning.” “I am glad to have been so flattered in your thoughts,” said the General, dryly. “I may take it you forestalled my action by considering what should be your own. However, now that we are come by these sage decisions to put Peg in control of us, I hold it excellent to have her over and learn her views. Perchance, after all, she may mislike us--these, her volunteers--and give us our dismissals.” “Shall I send word for her?” I asked. Mighty ready was I for any reason that should bring Peg walking our way. “It is what I would propose,” said he. “The sooner Peg knows of these, her troops, the sooner she can sketch her line of battle. Send your Jim; he has doubtless learned the way to Peg's on those rose errands.” The General's humor would court a risk of being overtaxed with a too much concern for those roses to Peg. Some day I might ask him to observe as much, and to seek newer reason for his jesting. There is such a word as threadbare, but in conjunction with my floral sendings to Peg, which--and properly--still went on, and his endless references thereunto, the General would appear to live in ignorance of it. However, I did not proceed for his enlightenment at this time, but put it off to a more sour leisure and a cloudier day.