Strange, also, that the young Lieutenant,
William Tecumseh Sherman, who when visiting in Sonoma, came with his
fellow-officers to the Brunner farm, should have attained that dignity.
Equally impossible would it have been then to conceive that in so short
a time, I, a happy mother and the wife of a Congressional
Representative, should be a guest at the brilliant receptions of the
foreign diplomats and at the Executive Mansion in the city of
Washington. Is it any wonder that in later years when my mind reverted
to those days, I almost questioned my identity?
Georgia's return from Mrs. Bergwald's before Christmas gave me a chance
to talk matters over with her, and we decided that we must leave our
present surroundings. Yet, how to get away, and when, puzzled us. Our
only hope of escape seemed to be to slip off together some moonlight
night.
"But," my sister remarked gravely, "we can't do it before Christmas!
You forget the white flannel skirt that I am embroidering for grandma,
the pillow-slips that you are hemstitching and trimming with lace for
her; and the beautiful white shirt that you have for grandpa."
She was sure that not to stay and give them as we had planned, would be
as bad as breaking a promise. So, we took out our work and hid
ourselves to sew a while.
My undertaking was not so large or elaborate as hers, and when I
finished, she still had quite a piece to do, and was out of floss.
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