"Certainly. How could one help loving the sweet, motherly face you saw yesterday."
The President laughed heartily. "I see—of course, of course!"
"The Honourable Austin Stoneman," suddenly announced a clerk at his elbow.
Elsie started in surprise and whispered:
"Do not let my father know I am here. I will wait in the next room. You'll let nothing delay the pardon, will you, Mr. President?"
Mr. Lincoln warmly pressed her hand as she disappeared through the door leading into Major Hay's room, and turned to meet the Great Commoner who hobbled slowly in, leaning on his crooked cane.
At this moment he was a startling and portentous figure in the drama of the Nation, the most powerful parliamentary leader in American history, not excepting Henry Clay.
No stranger ever passed this man without a second look. His clean-shaven face, the massive chiselled features, his grim eagle look and cold, colourless eyes, with the frosts of his native Vermont sparkling in their depths, compelled attention.
His walk was a painful hobble. He was lame in both feet, and one of them was deformed. The left leg ended in a mere bunch of flesh, resembling more closely an elephant's hoof than the foot of a man.
He was absolutely bald, and wore a heavy brown wig that seemed too small to reach to the edge of his enormous forehead.
