"Good morning, Miss Hawkins. Delighted. Mr. Hawkins. My friend, Miss
Medlar."
Mr. Hawkins, who was endeavoring to square himself for a bow, put his
foot through the train of Mrs. Senator Poplin, who looked round with a
scowl, which turned into a smile as she saw who it was. In extricating
himself, Mr. Hawkins, who had the care of his hat as well as the
introduction on his mind, shambled against Miss Blanche, who said pardon,
with the prettiest accent, as if the awkwardness were her own. And Mr.
Hawkins righted himself.
"Don't you find it very warm to-day, Mr. Hawkins?" said Blanche, by way
of a remark.
"It's awful hot," said Washington.
"It's warm for the season," continued Blanche pleasantly. "But I suppose
you are accustomed to it," she added, with a general idea that the
thermometer always stands at 90 deg. in all parts of the late slave
states. "Washington weather generally cannot be very congenial to you?"
"It's congenial," said Washington brightening up, "when it's not
congealed."
"That's very good. Did you hear, Grace, Mr. Hawkins says it's congenial
when it's not congealed."
"What is, dear?" said Grace, who was talking with Laura.
The conversation was now finely under way. Washington launched out an
observation of his own.
"Did you see those Japs, Miss Leavitt?"
"Oh, yes, aren't they queer.
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