While struggling with the problems of administration, President Arthur contrived to get relaxation in his chosen way. He loved to gather old friends about him and chat with them over late suppers. Owing to his strict rule, few of these little social gatherings were chronicled by the papers. His knowledge of political life and his acquaintance with prominent men made these supper parties of utmost importance, and to be bidden to attend was even more of a command to be cherished and obeyed than the usual White House invitations. Upon one occasion, a party of his old friends came from New York City, each bringing his own oyster fork, which he presented to the President as a souvenir after the dinner. The detailed accounts of President Arthur’s régime are meagre because of his dislike of publicity. He would not allow any chronicles of daily doings of the White House, or photographs of his children to be made or appear in the papers, or any stories to be given out about them. Gossip attached many versions to the story of the portrait of a pretty woman in the President’s private apartment, before which flowers in profusion were placed daily by his order. The story lost its zest when it was learned that it was the portrait of his wife, the Virginia nightingale, mother of Alan and Nellie. Nellie Arthur spent but little time in Washington, as she was attending a French school in New York City, while her brother was at college. Both frequently returned to visit their father, bringing young classmates to visit the White House with them. They spent lively days of sightseeing, often visiting the monument of their grandfather, Captain Herndon, at Annapolis. Although born and reared under the teaching of a Baptist clergyman, President Arthur deserted that faith and became an Episcopalian, and he and his household attended St. John’s Church--the Church of the Presidents, across from the White House. He placed there a beautiful memorial window in honour of his wife, and arranged for flowers to be sent regularly from the White House conservatory for the altar. The President’s young son found Washington a delightful and alluring place to spend week-ends and brief holidays from college. His appearance meant a gay frolic, and with his father’s team and his banjo he was a welcome addition to the younger set. Nellie, though but twelve when her father left the capital, left a memorial to her kindly heart among the poor children of the city, for she organized and was the first president of the Christmas Club which, the first year, collected more than twenty thousand gifts of toys, sweets, and clothing for the needy little ones--an institution which has never been allowed to lapse.