her with that silent
understanding which brought the faintest smile to her quiet lips. Once,
above the melodious hum of voices, the word "war" sounded distinctly,
and General Schuyler said:

"In these days of modern weapons of precision and long range, conflicts
are doubly deplorable. In the times of the old match-locks and
blunderbusses and unwieldly weapons weighing more than three times what
our modern light rifles weigh, there was little chance for slaughter.
But now that we have our deadly flint-locks, a battle-field will be a
sad spectacle. Bunker Hill has taught the whole world a lesson that
might not be in vain if it incites us to rid the earth of this wicked
frenzy men call war."

"General," said Sir Lupus, "if weapons were twenty times as quick and
deadly--which is, of course, impossible, thank God!--there would always
be enough men in the world to get up a war, and enjoy it, too!"

"I do not like to believe that," said Schuyler, smiling.

"Wait and see," muttered the patroon. "I'd like to live a hundred years
hence, just to prove I'm right."

"I should rather not live to see it," said the General, with a twinkle
in his small, grave eyes.

Then quietly the last healths were given and pledged; Dorothy rose, and
we all stood while she and Lady Schuyler passed out, followed by the
other ladies; and I had to restrain Ruyven, who had made plans to follow
Marguerite Haldimand. Then we men gathered once more over our port and
walnuts, conversing freely, while the fiddles and bassoons tuned up from
the hallway, and General Schuyler told us pleasantly as much of the
military situation as he desired us to know. And it did amuse me to
observe the solemn subalterns nodding all like wise young owlets, as
though they could, if they only dared, reveal secrets that would
astonish the General himself.

Snuff was passed, offered, and accepted with ceremony befitting; spirits
replaced the port, but General Schuyler drank sparingly, and his
well-trained suite perforce followed his example. So that when it came
time to rejoin our ladies there was no evidence of wandering legs, no
amiably vacant laughter, no loud voices to strike the postprandial
discord at the dance or at the card-tables.

"How did I conduct, cousin?" whispered Ruyven, arm in arm with me as we
entered the long drawing-room. And my response pleasing him, he made off
straight towards Marguerite Haldimand, who viewed his joyous arrival
none too cordially, I