Yet her life was far from unhappy. She visited Mrs. Gordon and Mrs. Jacobus a great deal; and the latter delighted in making little lunches and dinners, where the three ladies were joined by Lord Medway, and Neil Semple, and very often also by Major Andre, whose versatile gifts and cheerful temperament were the necessary and delightful antitheses to Neil's natural gravity and Medway's cultivated restraint. The splendid rooms of Madame Jacobus were warm, her dinners well cooked, her wines of the finest quality, her good nature never failing. She made a pet of Maria, and Lord Medway--reclining with half-closed eyes in some luxurious chair--watched his betrothed managing this clever woman, so much older than herself, with infinite satisfaction and amusement. He foresaw that she would be equal to any social position, and it never occurred to him that it was likely she would manage Lord Medway quite as thoroughly as she managed Madame Jacobus. Occasionally, Medway gave return dinners, at which Madame Semple presided, and then Maria sat at his right hand, and he proved himself to be the most charming of hosts, and the most devoted and respectful of lovers. Conversation was never to make, every one spoke as they listed, and as their prejudices or convictions led them. There was no Quentin Macpherson present, and opinions were as much individual property as purses. One day, toward the end of January, when the temperature was so low that the dining-table had been drawn close to the hearth, the usual party were sitting in the warmth and glow of its roaring fire. The dinner was over, the servants had left the room, Medway and Maria were picking their walnuts out together, and Major Andre and Neil Semple talking of a game of chess. Then Madame Jacobus drawing her gay Indian shawl closer around her, said suddenly, "Pray what is the news? Has nobody a mouthful of intelligence? Are we to wait for the Americans to make us something to talk about?" "Indeed Madame," answered Maria, "we have not yet exhausted their night attack on the British troops encamped on Staten Island." "They got nothing but five hundred sets of frozen hands and ears," said Major Andre. "Oh, yes, they did, sir; blankets and food count for something these days," said Madame, "not to speak of the nine vessels destroyed at Decker's Ferry--and the prisoners." "It was a dashing absurdity, Madame." "With all my soul; yet I am glad, it was an American dashing absurdity." "You should have seen Knyphausen when he heard of it," continued Andre. He pulled his whiskers savagely and said 'Egad! Damn! These Americans have the come-back-again, come-back-again, of the flies; to drive them off--it is impossible--they come-back-again.' We have, however, had our turn. Four nights ago, our troops entered Newark and Elizabeth and made a few reprisals, and then he began to hum: