She was so full of enthusiasm that she did not notice that she spoke to a stranger, but the young man addressed smiled down at her and replied: “So am I. Have you heard what it is all about?” “No, please tell me.” “It is the flag of the _Macedonian_. She was captured on October 25, by Captain Decatur of the frigate _United States_, and Mr. Hamilton has just brought official notice of it to his father.” “Oh, thank you.” Lettice’s lovely eyes were shining with delight. “I am so glad.” “Lettice,” came Rhoda’s voice severely. Then Lettice realized that she did not know this young man, and blushing, she followed Rhoda’s lead. The young man stood looking after them. “I wonder who the dear little girl is,” he said to himself. “I must find out.” “Who was that, Lettice?” Rhoda asked. “I don’t know. Oh, Rhoda, I was so excited that I spoke to him without realizing that he was a stranger. I am afraid it was a dreadful thing to do. Don’t tell Aunt Martha nor Mrs. Hamilton.” “No, I will not; but you must not do such things. I shall have to keep a strict eye upon you.” “I am afraid you will,” replied Lettice, meekly. However, after the supper, when the manager of the ball proposed as a toast, “Decatur and the officers and the crew of the frigate _United States_,” and after the most exciting evening she had ever known, as Lettice was about to leave the ball-room, she turned for one last, parting look, and from across the room came a smile of recognition from the strange young gentleman, and though Lettice was following Rhoda most decorously, she could not resist an answering smile as she turned away. CHAPTER VII. _Captured._ By this time the ports and harbors of the Chesapeake were declared in a state of blockade, and after her visit in Washington was over, Lettice returned to Baltimore to hear that little fleets of British ships were appearing off the coast. “You are much safer here than at home,” Mrs. Tom Hopkins said; “for if the British should come up the bay, there is no knowing what will happen. Think how they have burned and plundered lower Virginia. We may yet see our homes in the country burned over our heads.” “Do you really think so, Aunt Martha?” Lettice asked apprehensively. “One cannot tell,” Mrs. Hopkins returned, shaking her head. “Alas, this foolish war! It has taken my husband from me and may rob me of my home.” “Why don’t you go to Boston when Mr. Kendall and Rhoda go?” Lettice asked demurely. “Because my duty is here,” her aunt replied, a little sharply. “I shall not neglect that for the sake of my own comfort and convenience. I was not brought up that way.” “Isn’t it a pity that all the Massachusetts people don’t feel so?” Lettice said slyly. “Why, child, what do you mean?” “I mean that they don’t want the war to go on because it interferes with their comfort and convenience, and yet it is their duty to stand by their country’s rights.”