It was while these Battery defences were being constructed that the city gave one of its usual great entertainments to Captain Lawrence, who in the _Hornet_ had captured the British brig-of-war _Peacock_. Two circumstances made this dinner one that brought the war very close to the people of New York--the first was the fact that Lawrence was a citizen of New York; the second was the marching of the one hundred and six survivors of the sunk ship _Peacock_ through all the principal streets of the city to their prison in Fort Gansevoort, thus affording the populace a very visible proof of victory. It was, however, noticeable that few of American parentage offered any insult to the depressed-looking sailors, while many men of the first consideration raised their hats as the unhappy line passed. Leonard and Achille were among this number. “Honour to the vanquished!” said Achille with emotion; and Leonard, remembering who had taught them that sentiment, repeated it. And this courtesy was the more emphatic, because at that very time a large number of British war vessels had entered the Chesapeake and Delaware bays. But did war ever stop marriage? On the contrary, it seems to give a strange vitality and hurry to love-making; and in the midst of all its alarms Annette’s wedding preparations went blithely on to their determined crisis. On the seventh of June Annette, being of age, became mistress of her estate, and on the seventeenth of the same month she married Achille St. Ange. It was an exquisite summer day, and the old house in Nassau Street had never looked more picturesquely homelike. Every rose tree was in bloom, and doors and windows were all open to admit the scented air. For the company far exceeded the capacity of the parlours; it filled the hall, the stairway, and the piazzas, and even in the garden happy young people were wandering among the syringa bushes and the red and white roses. And presently there was a little wistful, eager stir, and Annette, followed by her grandmother and Sappha, came softly down the stairway. Then the girls sitting there rose and stood on each side of the descent, and Achille hastened to meet the snow-white figure, and ere she touched the floor took her hands in his own. And never had Annette looked so fair and so lovely; from the rose in her hair to the satin sandals on her feet she was in lustrous white. The faint colour of her cheeks, the deeper red of her mouth, and the heavenly blue of her eyes were but the tender tints that gave life to the bright, slow-moving, bride-like beauty.