The old man, observing my look, said: "Although my daughter's
husband holds a federal position in Washington, the pressure of his
business is so great that he has little time to give us mere
gossip--I beg your pardon, did you speak?"
I had unconsciously uttered an exclamation. This, then, was Remus--
the home of Expectant Dobbs--and these his wife and father; and
the Washington banquet-table, ah me! had sparkled with the yearning
heart's blood of this poor wife, and had been upheld by this
tottering Caryatid of a father.
"Do you know what position he has?"
The old man did not know positively, but thought it was some
general supervising position. He had been assured by Mr. Gashwiler
that it was a first-class clerkship; yes, a FIRST class.
I did not tell him that in this, as in many other official
regulations in Washington, they reckoned backward, but said:--
"I suppose that your M. C., Mr.--Mr. Gashwiler--"
"Don't mention his name," said the little woman, rising to her feet
hastily; "he never brought Expectant anything but disappointment
and sorrow.
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