we go in to dinner? Will
you be so kind as to lead the way with Miss Rhinelander?" The hostess
had recovered her composure, and smiling sweetly at the guest of honor,
gave orders to the servants to remove the wine glasses.

But General Grant did not hear her; he was looking at Ella Flowers. And
as he gazed at the sweet beauty of her countenance he seemed to feel
rising within him something which he had never felt before--something
which made everything else seem petty and trivial. And as he looked into
her eyes and she looked into his, he read her answer--the only answer
true womanhood can make to clean, worthy manhood.

"Shall we go a la salle-a-manger?" sounded a voice in his ears, and
Geraldine's sinuous arm was thrust through his.

General Grant took the proffered talon and gently removed it from him.

"Miss Rhinelander," he said firmly, "I am taking this young lady as my
partner," and suiting the action to the word, he graciously extended his
arm to Ella who took it with a pretty blush.

It was General Grant's turn to blush when the other guests, with a few
exceptions, applauded his choice loudly, and made way enthusiastically
as the handsome couple advanced to the brilliantly lighted dining room.

But although the hostess had provided the most costly of viands, I am
afraid that the brave general did not fully appreciate them, for in his
soul was the joy of a strong man who has found his mate and in his heart
was the singing of the eternal song, "I love her--I love her--I love
her!"

It was only too apparent to the other guests what had happened and to
their credit be it said that they heartily approved his choice, for
Mrs. Rhinelander and her scheming daughter Geraldine had made countless
enemies with their haughty manners, whereas the sweet simplicity of
Ella Flowers had won her numerous friends. And all laughed merrily when
General Grant, in his after dinner speech, said "flowers" instead of
"flour" when speaking of provisioning the army--a slip which caused both
the general and Miss Flowers to blush furiously, greatly to the delight
of the good-natured guests. "All the world loves a lover"--truer words
were never penned.

After dinner, while the other men, according to the usages of best
society, were filling the air of the dining room with the fumes of
nicotine, the general, who did not use tobacco, excused himself--amid
many sly winks from the other men--and wandered out into the
conservatory.

Th