"What will there be war about?" she asked. "And will they come here and take us all prisoners?"
"Nonsense, child! This is no talk for thee. Come to bed at once."
"Patty, did you hear my great-aunt say if I was to go out to the farm? What if they make Cousin Andrew fight? I should be so sorry."
"Quakers do not fight."
"But brave men do. I have read about them. And I am sure Andrew is brave."
"Do not be sure of any man. Thou wilt get a sight of wisdom between this and twenty years. And I believe thou art not to go out to Cherry Hill. There is too much illness. And we are to move to our own farm."
"And will there be chickens and birds and squirrels, and little lambs playing about, and——"
"Do not string any more things together with an 'and,' like beads on a chain, but get to bed. Yes, they seem to be having a fine noisy time downstairs. I know on which side the madam will be."
"For the King?"
"Not strongly, I think," with an ironical laugh Primrose did not understand.