not forget the associations of my early life. Well, Mrs. Lincoln came to my rooms, and, as usual, she had much to say about the Presidential election.
After some conversation, she asked: "Lizzie, where do you think I will be this time next summer?"
"Why, in the White House, of course."
"I cannot believe so. I have no hope of the re-election of Mr. Lincoln. The canvass is a heated one, the people begin to murmur at the war, and every vile charge is brought against my husband."
"No matter," I replied, "Mr. Lincoln will be re-elected. I am so confident of it, that I am tempted to ask a favor of you."
"A favor! Well, if we remain in the White House I shall be able to do you many favors. What is the special favor?"
"Simply this, Mrs. Lincoln—I should like for you to make me a present of the right-hand glove
7*
