The Southerner: A Romance of the Real Lincoln - BestLightNovel.com
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She bowed and courtesied to the President.
"Excuse me, Governor," he said with a smile. "Good morning, Phoebe."
"Good mornin', sah."
She extended the note with a second dip of her ponderous form:
"Ya.s.sah, Miss Ma'y send dis here excommunication ter you, sah!"
"You don't say so?" the President cried, breaking into a laugh.
"Ya.s.sah."
"Then I'm excommunicated, Governor!" he nodded to Chase. "I must read the edict." He adjusted his gla.s.ses and glanced at the note:
"Your mistress is lying down?"
"Ya.s.sah, she's sufferin' fum a little spell er nervous prosperity, sah--dat's all--sah----"
"Oh, that's all?"
"Ya.s.sah."
The President roared with laughter, in which Phoebe joined.
"Thank you, Phoebe, tell her I'll be there in a minute----"
"Ya.s.sah."
"And Phoebe----"
The maid turned as she neared the door:
"Ya.s.sah?"
"I hope you'll always bring my messages from your mistress----"
"Ya.s.sah."
"I like you, Phoebe. You're cheerful!"
"I tries ter be, sah!" she laughed, swinging herself through the door.
The President threw his big hands behind his head, leaned back, and laughed until his giant frame shook.
The dignified and solemn Secretary of the Treasury scowled, rose, and stalked from the room.
"Sorry I couldn't talk longer, Chase."
"It's all right," the Secretary replied, with a wave of his hand.
The President found his wife alone.
"I hope nothing serious, Mother?" he said tenderly.
"I've a miserable headache again. Why were you so long?"
"I was with Governor Chase."
"And what did the old snake in the gra.s.s want this time?"
The President glanced toward the door uneasily, sat down by her side and touched her hand:
"You should be more careful, Mother. Servants shouldn't hear you say things like that----"
The full lips came together with bitter firmness:
"I'll say just what I think when I'm talking to you, Father--what did he want?"
"He offered his resignation as my Secretary of the Treasury."
His wife sprang up with flas.h.i.+ng eyes:
"And you?"
"Refused to accept it."
"O my Lord, you're too good and simple for this world! You're a babe--a babe in the woods with wolves prowling after you from every tree and you won't see them! You know that he's a candidate against you for the Presidency, don't you?"
"Yes."
"You know that he never loses an opportunity to sneer at you behind your back?"
"I've heard so."
"You know that he's hand in glove with the conspirators in Congress who are trying to pull you down?"
"Perhaps."
"You know that he's the greatest letter writer of the age? That he writes as many letters to your generals in the field as old Winter--that he writes to every editor he knows and every politician he can influence, and that the purpose of these letters is always the same--to pull you down?"
"Possibly."
"You have this chance to put your foot on this frozen snake's head and yet you bring him into your house again to warm him into life?"
"Chase is a great Secretary of the Treasury, my dear. The country needs him. I can't afford to take any chances just now of a change for the worse."
"He has no idea of leaving. He's only playing a game with you to strengthen himself--can't you see this?"