They were friends, and were about to pass
from the hall into the drawing-room, when they paused at the sound of
music. Some one was playing a violin with exquisite skill, accompanied
by the harpsicord, and a lady and gentleman were singing.
There was no mistaking the violinist, for there was only one in the
neighborhood capable of so artistic work, while Mrs. Skelton had no
superior as a player upon the harpsicord, the fashionable instrument of
those days. Besides, it was easy to identify the rich, musical voice of
Jefferson and the sweet tones of the young widow.
The gentlemen looked significantly at each other. Their feelings were
the same.
"We are wasting our time," said one; "we may as well go home."
They quietly donned their hats and departed, leaving the ground to him
who had manifestly already pre-empted it.
On New Year's day, 1772, Jefferson and Mrs. Skelton were married and
no union was more happy. His affection was tender and romantic and they
were devoted lovers throughout her life. Her health and wishes were his
first consideration, and he resolved to accept no post or honor that
would involve their separation, while she proved one of the truest
wives with which any man was ever blessed of heaven.
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