“It was a good dinner, but not a dinner to be asked out to; you and I often have a better one--and there was no dancing, only cards and games--and Jose Westervelt.” “Poor Jose!” “Grandmother, he is so magisterial. He sets up his opinions as if they were a golden image; and I am not the girl to fall down before them.” “He is a distinguished mathematician already.” “And looks it: besides he knows no more of dancing than a Hindoo knows of skating. Also, since he came back from England, he is so cold and positive in his views, and so stiff and rigid in his London-made clothes, that I cannot endure him. Did you see Sapphira, grandmother?” “Yes. With some hair work she was busy--a finger ring, or brooch or some such trifle. There will be other work soon, I think. In the last war we had to make all our own clothing and most of our household necessities. The last war! Oh, Annette, dear one, I lost everything in the last war!” “But you are now a rich woman, grandmother.” “I mean not that. I lost your grandfather; he was everything to me. There was money, yes; and there was property; but all in a bad way then. Now; well, it is a little different.” “However did you manage?” “I worked and hoped and helped myself and others, and left the rest to God. While I slept He made things to grow and prosper. And when this war is over we shall have settled our standing among the nations beyond all dispute, and New York will stride forward as if she wore the seven-leagued boots.” “Then, grandmother, you will build a fine house past Trinity Church--a good deal past it--perhaps half a mile, or even a mile, and we shall have a carriage of our own and be among the quality.” “I shall never leave this house, Annette. But I tell you, my dear one--you shall go to Washington every season. If your uncle and aunt Bloommaert go there, that will be sufficient; if not, I have friends who will see to it. Sapphira grows wonderfully handsome.” “And I, grandmother?” “You have your own beauty. You need not to envy any one. Now I am tired and I will go to my room. I want to take some better counsel than my own.” “May I not go to see Sapphira, grandmother? I want to see her very much.” “You may not go to-day. Listen; the constant tramp of feet and the noise of men shouting and gathering grows louder. Stay in your home.” “It is very tiresome! Men are always quarrelling about something. What is the use of governments if they can’t prevent war? Any one can settle a quarrel by fighting over it. I do not see what good fighting does. The drums parading round will give us headaches, and the men will go swaggering from one day to another after them. I am in a passion at President Madison--just too when summer is here, and we were going to the Springs, and I was sure to have had an enchanting time.” “Thou little good-for-nothing! Hold thy foolish tongue! If our men are going to fight it is for thy liberty and thy honour and thy happiness. Sit still an hour and think of that.”