Page 54 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

“Very good.” Mr.Dickinson stood. “I will leave it to you, my dear, to make any final arrangements. I must return to the Hill. I have several committee briefs I need to review before tomorrow.” He stacked his papers and tucked them into a black leather briefcase. “I trust that you will all be able to entertain yourselves until the dinner party on Friday.”

“Of course we can, Father,” Emily said, and then looking past her father’s shoulder and directly at me, she added, “We have much to do.”

Chapter Twenty

The next day, Emily and her sister were eager to sightsee, and I began to wonder why I came with the Dickinson family to Washington. Emily had said that she wanted me to come because of my brother’s death, but we had done little to find out who might have injured Terror and caused the horse to lash out and kill Henry.

By the time the two sisters emerged from their bedroom, I had already tidied up my bed linens and went to the kitchen to arrange their coffees and breakfasts.

Miss Lavinia poured coffee into a fine china cup. “If I can wake to coffee like this each morning, I think it was a fine idea after all that you came with us to Washington, Willa.” She waltzed back into the bedroom to dress.

“We are headed to Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington, today. It’s supposed to be spectacular. Can you make the arrangements for our departure, Willa?” Emily asked.

I glanced at the open door that Miss Lavinia had just gone through. “But what about...” I lowered my voice. “The investigation.”

She smiled. “Why do you think we are going to Mount Vernon?”

I folded my hands in front of me. “I don’t know, miss.”

“Last night, my father’s aide sent a note that Mr.Johnson was staying at an inn by Mount Vernon, so it would behoove us to make due haste.”

“You want to go to his inn?” I asked.

“Of course I do. I will become quite parched from walking the grounds of Mount Vernon. I can sit a long time and drink quite a bit of tea. How about you?” She smiled.

“I can sit and drink tea for hours if allowed.”

She chuckled.

Buford and Betty Sue were ready and waiting for us when we left the Willard a little while later.

Miss Lavinia had asked their mother if she would like to come with us to Mount Vernon, but Mrs.Dickinson declined. She insisted she had much work to do for the dinner party. I knew that Mrs.Dickinson was quite anxious about it. The Dickinsons hosted guests often back in Amherst, but I would suppose in Mrs.Dickinson’s mind, hosting friends who were traveling or people from the small town was quite different than hosting dignitaries and congressmen from the nation’s capital.

As Buford drove us to the spot where we would get on the boat to cross the Potomac River, he told me, “Miss Willa, you are going to be amazed at what you see in Mount Vernon. I have been there a few times myself. The bowling green is magnificent.”

The ferry ride across the river was another first for me. It seemed I was getting those “firsts” one after another since I started working for the Dickinson family. I clung to my seat the whole time. Emily tried to pull me away to catch a glimpse of Mount Vernon from the boat, but I was perfectly happy right where I was inside of the cabin.

A hired cart waited for us when we disembarked from the boat. On the ride to Mount Vernon, Miss Lavinia and Emily spoke excitedly over everything we were about to see.

We were close when I saw an inn on the side of the road called the Tortoise and the Hare Inn. It was the inn that Mr.Johnson was calling home while in Washington.

I tapped Emily’s wrist and nodded at the inn as we went by.

“Oh! What a charming place,” she said. “We will have to stop there for tea after we visit the mansion.”

Miss Lavinia frowned. “You want to stop someplace for tea instead of going straight back to the Willard so you can write?”

“Why does this surprise you, Sister?” Emily asked.

“Because it’s very much out of character for you. If you spend too much time around people, you withdraw. I imagine there will be many people at the president’s home, and you will want to be alone after being around so many strangers.”

Emily opened her mouth as if she was about argue more, but then the expansive bowling green and finally the west front of Mount Vernon mansion came into view. Behind it we could see just a bit of the great Potomac River.

The sisters fell silent. I felt the sight robbed me of words too. If I had thought the Dickinson home in Amherst was grand, it was nothing compared to Washington’s estate. It was truly a mansion. It was cream-colored with a reddish-brown roof. Standing two stories high, the house was made to look even taller with a cupola tower and weather vane. As we drew closer, I saw the weather vane was a dove holding an olive branch. Had that been included because of the biblical story of Noah and the great flood? I wondered.

A male guide met us at the door. He wore a brown suit and had a long mustache that was turned up in the corners. “Welcome to Mount Vernon. This was the plantation home of our first president, George Washington. A truly great man.”

I stopped looking at the house. “This was a plantation?”

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