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Updated: June 22, 2025
Joseph C. Willard, while another brother, Mr. Caleb C. Willard, became the landlord of the popular Ebbitt House. In time it was determined to rebuild the hotel, which was done under the superintendence of Mr. Henry Willard, who was designed by nature for an architect.
Turning on his heel, Goddard retraced his steps to the Capitol, but when he reached the building he concluded not to enter, so continued on his way to his boarding house opposite the Ebbitt. On leaving the Capitol grounds, his progress was blocked by a regiment of raw recruits on its way to the front, which halted and "marked time."
As the soup-plates were being removed by Annie, the maid, with an elaborate confusion and a general passing of plates down the line, Istra Nash peered at the maid petulantly. Mrs. Arty frowned, then grew artificially pleasant and said: "Miss Nash has just come back from Paris. She's a regular European traveler, just like Mr. Wrenn." Mrs. Samuel Ebbitt piped: "Mr. Ebbitt was to Europe. In 1882."
He blushed. He furiously buttered his bread as Mrs. Arty remarked to the assemblage: "Ladies and gentlemen, I want you all to meet Miss Istra Nash. Miss Nash you've met Mr. Wrenn; Miss Nelly Croubel, our baby; Tom Poppins, the great Five-Hundred player; Mrs. Ebbitt, Mr. Ebbitt, Miss Proudfoot."
Ebbitt had come from Hartford five years before, but he always seemed just to have come from there. He was in a real-estate office; he was gray, ill-tempered, impatiently honest, and addicted to rheumatism and the newspapers. Mrs. Ebbitt was addicted only to Mr. Ebbitt.
We occupied apartments in the same house in Washington on F Street near the Ebbitt House, at which hotel we took our meals. F Street is now the heart of the business centre, but it was then one of the principal residence streets, and many Representatives and Senators lived in that vicinity.
He dreamed of a drive over the avenues, a trip to the monument, a visit to the halls of congress, an inspection of public buildings, a dinner at his mother's home, luncheon at the Ebbitt, and other attentions which might give to him every moment of her day in Washington. But even as he dreamed, he was certain that his hopes could not be gratified.
He was confused by hearing old Samuel Ebbitt state: "Uh-h-h-h back in 18 uh 1872 the vessel Prissie no, it was 1873; no, it must have been '72 " "It was 1872, father," said Mrs. Ebbitt. I was on a coasting-vessel, young man. But we didn't carry cattle." Mr.
He arose a victor. There was no uneasiness, but rather all the social polish of Mrs. Arty's at its best, in his manner, as he crossed to Mrs. Ebbitt's chair and asked: "How is Mr. Ebbitt to-night? Pretty rheumatic?" Miss Proudfoot offered him a lime tablet, and he accepted it judicially. "I believe these tablets are just about as good as Park & Tilford's," he said, cocking his head.
Lane's boarding house on F Street across from the Ebbitt." Boyd hesitated for a perceptible moment. Would it be wise to allow Mrs. Bennett to interview Goddard? Would she be able to worm any information about Nancy's adventures in Winchester from the Major? "Perhaps Captain Lloyd would not like our calling," suggested Mrs. Arnold, breaking the slight pause.
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