Perhaps there could be no stronger proof of the
unconscious influence the young girl already had over him.
He remembered the liveries of the diplomatic carriage that had borne her
away, and ascertained without difficulty that her sister had married one
of the foreign ministers, and that she was a guest in his house. But he
was the more astonished to hear that she and her sister were considered
to be Southern Unionists--and were greatly petted in governmental
circles for their sacrificing fidelity to the flag. His informant, an
official in the State Department, added that Miss Matilda might have
been a good deal of a madcap at the outbreak of the war--for the sisters
had a brother in the Confederate service--but that she had changed
greatly, and, indeed, within a month. "For," he added, "she was at the
White House for the first time last week, and they say the President
talked more to her than to any other woman."
The indescribable sensation with which this simple information filled
Brant startled him more than the news itself. Hope, joy, fear, distrust,
and despair, alternately distracted him. He recalled Miss Faulkner's
almost agonizing glance of appeal to him in the drawing-room at Susy's,
and it seemed to be equally consistent with the truth of what he had
just heard--or some monstrous treachery and deceit of which she might be
capable.
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