The General looked round him in silence.

His eye was caught by the old hearth, and by the iron plate at the back of it, bearing the letters G.W.and some scroll work.
There flashed into his mind a vision of the December evening on which Washington passed away, the flames flickering in the chimney, the winds breathing round the house and over the snow-bound landscape outside, the dying man in that white bed, and around him, hovering invisibly, the generations of the future.
"He was a traitor to his king and country!" he repeated to himself, firmly.

Then as his patriotic mind was not disturbed by a sense of humour, he added the simple reflection--"But it is, of course, natural that Americans should consider him a great man." The French window beside the bed was thrown open, and these privileged guests were invited to step on to the balcony.

Daphne Floyd was handed out by young Barnes.

They hung over the white balustrade together.