“And what do you think of the letters-of-marque and reprisal? And will you favor me with your opinion on carrying trade and the constructive blockade?” Lettice looked bewildered, and Mr. Clinton laughed. “I did but tease you, fair demoiselle. ’Tis not for ladies to bother their heads about such things; what concerns them more is a question of a becoming gown or a new dancing step. What, by the way, is this that I hear of a dance in a barn? May I hope to have the honor?” “Yes, if you like.” “The first?” “That is promised,” returned Lettice, reluctantly. “The second, then?” “That, too.” “The third, then?” “I told my Cousin Joe that I would give him that, but--” “Since he is your cousin, perhaps I can persuade him to exchange places with me, if you will allow.” “Oh! ye-es,” Lettice replied, trying to cover her first exclamation of eagerness by a little show of reluctance. “If you like, you can settle it with Cousin Joe. I don’t care.” Her uncle was watching her amusedly. “Don’t go over to the enemy, Letty,” he said as she passed him. “No fear of that,” she replied, laughing, but with a little fluttering at heart. What was the use of a girl’s bothering about politics, after all, she thought; even James had said that perhaps a war was not right, and--yes, of course she was what her father was, but that didn’t mean she could not have friends on the other side. Look at Mr. Kendall and her Uncle Tom, they were brothers-in-law and friends, yet they didn’t agree. So she put all disturbing questions aside, and danced her prettiest with this new gallant, feeling that she was the envy of the older girls, for no one was led out more gracefully than she, though all the neighborhood was famous for its good dancers. The tobacco barn with its big floor was a fine place for a dance, and the courtseyings and dippings and bowings went on till all hours. The fashion of round dances had not yet reached the place, and more stately measures were used. “Across there, where you see the lights twinkling, is Annapolis,” Lettice told Mr. Clinton on their homeward voyage. She had turned a cold shoulder on Birket Dean, and was listening with evident pleasure to the newcomer’s low-spoken words. “It was from there the _Constitution_ sailed, only last month; we saw her go out. I wonder what will be the next news,” she said in one of the pauses of the conversation. “Still troubling your pretty head with such matters?” returned Mr. Clinton, smiling at her. “Rather let us speak of yonder moon sailing so serenely across the heavens.” And he began to quote poetry to her, till she did indeed forget war’s alarms. Lounging at Rhoda’s feet, James every now and then turned his curly head toward the slim girl figure. She was very kind to him on this homeward trip, and they did not once get into an argument.