never see her; never know how she worked and planned, save perhaps at last, in that supreme moment as she passed, her soul would cry to his, “Redeemed!” And he would understand.
All this she was thinking and weaving; not clearly and definitely, but in great blurred clouds of thought of things as she said slowly:
“He should have a great position for this.”
‚ÄúWhy, certainly,‚Äù Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool agreed, and then curiously: ‚ÄúWhat?‚Äù
Zora considered. ‚ÄúNegroes,‚Äù she said, ‚Äúhave been Registers of the Treasury, and Recorders of Deeds here in Washington, and Douglas was Marshal; but I want Bles‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù she paused and started again. ‚ÄúThose are not great enough for Mr. ¬ÝAlwyn; he should have an office so important that Negroes would not think of leaving their party again.‚Äù
Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool took pains to repeat Zora‚Äôs words to Mr. ¬ÝEasterly.
He considered the matter.
“In one sense, it’s good advice,” he admitted; “but there’s the South to reckon with. I’ll think it over and speak to the President. Oh, yes; I’m going to mention France at the same time.”
Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool smiled and leaned back in her carriage. She noted with considerable interest the young colored woman who was watching her from the sidewalk: a brown, well-appearing young woman of notable self-possession. Caroline Wynn scrutinized Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool because she had been speaking with Mr. ¬ÝEasterly, and Mr. ¬ÝEasterly was a figure of political importance.