"You know so many people," returned Annis with a curious heat in her cheeks.
"Someone you know, too. Your old enemy. My good nurse and friend."
"Oh, that—young Englishman who came over here to fight us," she answered with an indifferent air, though she had been certain in her mind when he first told her to guess.
"Yes; Stafford. He is coming over here to settle. He was converted at the Battle of Bladensburg, and is a ranting, tearing, out-and-out American. Why, you never knew a more ardent patriot! He is going to take the oath of allegiance at once, and find something to do, and do it bravely, earnestly. That is the kind of citizens we want. I think he has had something of a time to convince his people, but his father has given him a small sum of money to start him in life—nothing to what it would cost his father if he stayed at home, he says. Strange how these men keep their sons at home, thinking trade disgraceful, when England would swoop up all the commerce of the earth, forgetting what manner of men make commerce possible."
Annis was silent, yet there was a little heart-beat of exultation. Why she could not have told.
"Well—will you bid him welcome and Godspeed?"
"Why, it is nothing to me," with a pretty air of indifference.
She did not see the dainty flush on Marian's cheek, that came in moments of embarrassment, as if she were still sixteen.
"But, then, you have your country's good at heart?"
"I wish the country well," and she made a pretentious courtesy, drawing up her brows.