smiling, "that I should altogether
disgrace the cloak now, woman as I am, if the occasion required me to
put it on."

"Pray drop this subject, my dear child; you know it makes me sad. My
family, I fear, are foredoomed to some strange mishap from these civil
broils. Attend me presently in the library, I have matters to
communicate that concern you. Henry, my boy," Lindsay continued, as he
rose from his breakfast, "pay Stephen Foster the full value of the
venison; as a sportsman you have a right perhaps to your share of the
game, but a gentleman shows his courtesy by waiving such claims; he
should suffer no friend to be his creditor, even in opinion. Stephen may
not expect to be paid; no matter, it concerns your own character to be
liberal."

"I have promised Stephen a new rifle," replied Henry; "since they have
elected him lieutenant of the Amherst Rangers he wants something better
than his old deer gun."

"I positively forbid it," interrupted Lindsay hastily, returning towards
the middle of the room from the door through which he was about to
depart. "What! would you purchase weapons for those clowns to enable
them to shoot down his majesty's liege subjects? to make war upon their
rightful king, against his laws and throne? to threaten your life, your
sister's and mine, unless we bowed to this impious idol of democracy,
which they have set up--this Washington?"

"My dear, dear father," interposed Mildred as she came up to him and
flung her arms about his neck. "Consider, Henry is a thoughtless boy,
and does not look to consequences."

"Heaven bless you both, my children! I beg your pardons. I am over
captious. Henry, pay Stephen for the venison, and give him something
better than a rifle. Mildred, I will see you presently."

When Lindsay had left the parlor Mildred besought her brother, in the
most earnest terms, to be more guarded against giving expression to any
sentiment which might bring their father's thoughts to the existing war.
Her own observation had informed her of the nature of the struggle that
agitated his mind, and her effort was continually directed to calm and
soothe his feelings by the most unremitting affection, and thus to
foster his resolution against taking any part in those schemes in which,
she shrewdly guessed, it was the purpose of the emissaries of the royal
party to involve him.

Her attachment to Arthur Butler she feared to mention to her father,
whilst her self-respect and her conv