s. The men paid her compliments after the
downright fashion of their set. She was gay, quick to reply, amazingly
at ease. Schmidt watched her, comprehending as no one else did the
sudden revelation to the young woman of the power and charm of her
beauty and the primal joy of unused weapons. To the younger men she was
a little reserved and quiet, to the elder men all grace and sweetness,
to the trickster cousins, disconcertingly cool.

"Where on earth did she learn it all?" said Mrs. Byrd, as she went out
to dinner with Mr. Penn.

"Heaven knows. But it was a saucy trick and she will pay for it, I fear,
at home."

"Will she tell?" said Morris, the master of the rolls, as he followed
behind them with Mrs. Wayne.

"Yes," said Mrs. Byrd, "she will tell; but whether or not, the town will
ring with it, in a day or two. A pity, too, for the child is brought up
in the straightest way of Friends. None of Madame Logan's fine gowns and
half-way naughtiness for her."

At dinner Margaret quietly amused Mr. Morris with Schmidt's terror of
June, the cat, and with Mr. Jefferson's bout with Hamilton, and the tale
of the sad lapse of De Forest, which greatly pleased General Wayne, her
right-hand neighbor. When they left the men to their Madeira, she
insisted on changing her dress. A not duly penitent bevy of maids
assisted, and by and by it was a demure Quaker moth who replaced the gay
butterfly and in the drawing-room helped Madame Penn to make tea. They
paid her fair compliments, and she smiled, saying: "I, dear Mrs.
Penn--was I here? Thou must be mistaken. That was Grandmama Plumstead
thou didst have here. Oh, a hundred years ago."

"Ask her to come again," said Mrs. Penn.

"And to stay," said Mrs. Wayne; "a charming creature."

"The maid is clever," said Mrs. Masters.

Meanwhile the wine went round on the coasters over the mahogany table in
the dining-room, and men talked of France, and grew hot with wine and
more politics than pleased their host, who had no definite opinions, or,
if any, a sincere doubt as to the quality of a too aged Madeira.

He gave a toast: "The ladies and our Quaker Venus." They drank it
standing.

"This wine needs fining," said his reverence, the rector of Christ
Church. They discussed it seriously.

Mr. Rawle cried, "A toast: George Washington and the Federal party."

"No politics, gentlemen," said Penn; "but I will drink the first half of
it--His Excellency."

* * *