She sat on the step, her thoughts travelling to her old home. How pleasant it must be there this hot night, she reflected, with the bay in sight, and the moon shining down upon it. She would like to be dashing down the long level road upon her pretty bay mare, and after a while to come in and find Mammy waiting for her with some cooling drink, and Lutie ready to undress her. She wished Aunt Martha would let her have Lutie, or she wished her father would let her keep house for him and have the old servants about her. Perhaps he would in another year, for she would be seventeen then. She was aroused from her revery by her father saying: “War? yes, war say I. Joe, I told you, didn’t I, of our meeting at Fountain Inn, and of our resolutions upon the subject? ‘No alternative between war and degradation’ we decided.” “Oh, father,” put in Lettice, “is there really to be war? I thought it was only talk.” “Pray God not. There’s been too much talk; now is the time for action.” “And shall you go and fight? And Cousin Joe and Uncle Tom, will they go too?” “If we are needed, yes. I can answer for all of us.” Lettice slipped her arm across the back of her father’s chair. “Oh, father, dear, you’ll not go and leave me all alone?” “Not all alone, with your Aunt Martha and the servants,” spoke up her Uncle Tom. Lettice looked down a little confused, but her Cousin Joe changed the subject by saying, “They are not for war in Boston, Uncle William.” “So I am told; and that Massachusetts, so valiant in the Revolution, should be willing tamely to submit to England’s insults, is beyond my belief. I cannot understand her indifference.” “A war with England would touch her pocket-book too nearly,” Joe replied, laughing. “Yes, it would interfere with her trade, and she has not the other resources that we have,” said Mr. Tom Hopkins, reflectively. “I suspect that you had more than one controversy with Edward, Joe.” “That I did; and he’ll soon be on his way here to resume the argument.” “Does he bring Rhoda with him?” asked Mrs. Hopkins. “Yes, so he said.” “She’ll be a companion for you, Lettice,” said Mrs. Hopkins. “She is but a year older. We must try to keep her here for a good long visit. I’ve not seen Rhoda for five years, but she was a very good child then, and I have no doubt will be a useful influence for you.” Lettice touched her cousin’s arm. “Come, walk to the corner with me,” she said. “I’m tired of sitting still, and you all talk nothing but politics.” “You’d rather the subject would be dress, I fancy,” Mrs. Hopkins remarked, with a little severity. “To be sure I would,” Lettice laughed, as she walked off. “Sometimes I feel as if I must be saucy to Aunt Martha,” she said to her cousin. “Tell me about Rhoda, Cousin Joe. Is she pretty? What does she look like?”