"Oh, we prepared somewhat for tea, aunty, but not with soap and water,"

replied Martha.

"What have you been doing all this time?-and here is John, too. How do you do, John? Come here and meet George and Martha's aunt from Philadelphia," said Mrs. Parke sweetly.

As John shuffled over to shake hands with Mrs. Davis, a woolly head peeped from between the folds of the velour portieres, where a lean little body was completely hidden. Jim felt that, as Hercules the man-servant, he had a right to watch the toothsome refreshments disappear even if he couldn't partake of the same.

"Well, mother, we really hadn't a moment's time in which to wash and dress. We've visited the whole place, met John and Jim, and rehea.r.s.ed for the wedding. So, you see, we have been a bit crowded for time in which to brush up," explained Jack.

"Wedding? What wedding?" asked Mrs. Davis, in surprise.

Mrs. Parke thought she saw light, however, and turned to George. "Is the Custis wedding coming off soon?"

"Yes, but Martha says she won't marry me as Washington. She thinks Jack looks better in the c.o.c.ked hat," grumbled George.

"But looks never make the general!" laughed Mrs. Parke.

Then, turning to the still amazed guest, she explained.

"I have lately been reading the life of George Washington to the children and they have a great deal of fun playing the chapters as I read them. Only they sometimes have very realistic fun-for instance when they burned down the old homestead, and again when they went on a survey trip. Last week they had the dreadful battle between the French and British at Fort Duquesne, and as a result, our entire hedge is broken down for more than thirty feet in length."

"Thank goodness, then, that history has reached the point where Martha Custis subdues the fighting inclination of George," laughed Mrs. Davis.

The maid appeared with tea just then, and in the deep dish where so many tempting cakes had reposed in the early afternoon, there now were two lonely scorched cookies. Thin slices of b.u.t.tered bread _without jam_, and hot waffles sugared but with _no honey_, caused consternation in all present.

"Katy, is there any jam?" asked Martha.

"Mammy say dat jam's goin' t' stay locked up fer anudder day!"

"Katy!" gasped Mrs. Parke. "What are these scorched cakes doing here?"

"Cook say ast Ma.r.s.e George an' Martha. Dey knows better'n we-all."

"Oh, yes, I remember, mother. When our cousins arrived they felt very weak and hungry, so I suggested a little bite, to keep them up till tea was served. I found the dish of cookies the most convenient, and, not wishing to disturb the cook, who was busy, I insisted upon their having a few," explained George.

And Martha hastily added: "Naturally, not wishing to make our visitors feel that they were giving us any trouble, we ate some cakes, too, to make them feel at home."

"Well, the cakes felt very much at home, I'm sure!" laughed Mrs. Davis, who was accustomed to these escapades, as well as Mrs. Parke.

"But that need not deprive you ladies of the jam, you know!" hinted Jack.

"Nor uv dis ice cream dat cook sent up fer de two ladies t' tek de place uv dem cakes!" added Katy significantly, placing a deep dish of French cream before each one of the ladies.

The children stared aghast at such partiality, and then looked at each other, wondering if they would have had ice cream, had they not eaten the cakes.

At the discovery that no cakes or jam were to be served at that tea, Jim silently disappeared from the friendly portieres, and soon after appeared in the culinary department, watching for an opportunity to s.n.a.t.c.h a slice of bread and b.u.t.ter when his mammy's back was turned.

And, oh joy! An apple was right there by the homely chunk of bread. In another moment Jim and the apple were gone, and when mammy turned to put the apple in the barrel, the place knew it no more!

CHAPTER III

MARTHA CUSTIS' STORY

Many eager eyes opened the following morning to a dismal sight. Rain fell as if it meant to wash away everything on top of the earth. It continued to rain all morning, and it thus behooved the ladies to provide amus.e.m.e.nt indoors for the active children.

"I think I will read another chapter of Washington's life," suggested Mrs. Parke.

"Read a quiet, uneventful chapter," hinted Mrs. Davis.

"Read about the battle of Bunker Hill!" cried George.

"On a dreary day like this we ought to read about the dying of the first child of Martha Custis and then later, the death-bed scene of Colonel Custis. Then we can fill in time with reading of Mrs. Custis' life with her two remaining children after she was widowed," ventured Mrs. Parke.

But the objections violently raised against such mournful readings, soon quieted both ladies and led them to see the wisdom of a more active tale for that day.

"If you do not care to hear me read of Martha Custis' bereavement perhaps you will like to hear of her second marriage?" said Mrs. Parke, turning over the pages of the book slowly.

"Oh, aunty, do tell us how Washington met Martha Custis and fell in love!" sighed Anne, the sentimental one of the group.

"If the boys will keep quiet I will read that chapter, and then you girls must promise to listen to a battle scene which I will read to them."

They all promised to be model listeners, so Mrs. Parke began:

"'In the month of May, 1758, Washington journeyed from Fort Loudoun to Williamsburg, and in the course of travelling, he first met Martha Custis, the fair widow who was later to be his wife.

"'The Virginia regiment had great need of necessities, so Washington was sent with dispatches to urge and explain to the Council and a.s.sembly the imperative need of fitting the regiment properly before sending it to the capture of Fort Duquesne.

"'So George Washington, riding the magnificent horse bequeathed him by Braddock, and accompanied by his servant also acquired in the same manner, was pa.s.sing the county of New Kent, Virginia, when he met an elderly gentleman riding and looking about as if familiar with the scenery.

"'Both riders halted, saluted and then rode on together. As they approached the avenue leading to a stately mansion, the elder man placed a detaining hand on the reins, and said:

"'"Colonel, let it never be said that you pa.s.sed the house of your father's old friend without dismounting."

"'"But, my dear sir, I ride in haste to bear letters to our Governor in Williamsburg," objected Washington.

"'"Nevertheless, my dear colonel, you will dine with me, and borrow some of the fine moonlight to show you the way to the Governor. You will reach Williamsburg ere break of day."

"'"Do you promise to excuse me immediately after dinner?" asked Washington.

"'"With all the promptness of military discipline!" agreed the host.

"'Thus the young and gallant colonel resigned the reins of his spirited horse to Bishop, the English servant, with orders for him to be ready to pursue the journey the moment he, Washington, came forth.

"'The name and fame of the young colonel was dear to all Virginians, and the moment the family of the courteous Chamberlayne heard of the arrival of the military guest, each and every one vied to make it a delightful evening.

"'When Washington was introduced to the guests at dinner and he first met Widow Custis, he was fascinated by her. Both were mutually pleased with each other, nor is this strange. The lady was fair to behold, of gracious manners, and well-endowed with worldly benefits. The hero, famous, and with a form fit for the G.o.ds, was just the man to impress this lady.