"He's captain in our army--in the Confederate army.
He was wounded at Gettysburg."
"Oh!" The deep-set eyes gazed down at the fresh face, its muscles
straining under grief and responsibility, with the gentlest, most
fatherly pity. "I think I can manage your job, my boy," he said. "I
used to practise law in a small way myself, and I'll be glad to draw
the will for you."
The young fellow had whirled him around before he had finished the
sentence. "Come," he said. "Don't waste time talking--why didn't
you tell me before?" and then he glanced up. He saw the ill-fitting
clothes, the crag-like, rough-modelled head, the awkward carriage of
the man; he was too young to know that what he felt beyond these was
greatness. There was a tone of patronage in his voice and in the
cock of his aristocratic young head as he spoke. "We can pay you, you
know--we're not paupers." He fixed his eyes on Lincoln's face to watch
the impression as he added, "My brother is Carter Hampton Blair, of
Georgia. I'm Warrington Blair. The Hampton Court Blairs, you know."
"Oh!" said the President.
The lad went on:
"It would have been all right if Nellie hadn't left Washington
to-day--my sister, Miss Eleanor Hampton Blair. Carter was better this
morning, and so she went with the Senator. She's secretary to Senator
Warrington, you know.
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