“Why don’t you go to Boston when Mr. Kendall and Rhoda go?” Lettice asked demurely.
“Because my duty is here,” her aunt replied, a little sharply. “I shall not neglect that for the sake of my own comfort and convenience. I was not brought up that way.”
“Isn’t it a pity that all the Massachusetts people don’t feel so?” Lettice said slyly.
“Why, child, what do you mean?”
“I mean that they don’t want the war to go on because it interferes with their comfort and convenience, and yet it is their duty to stand by their country’s rights.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about,” replied her aunt. “A chit of a girl like you doesn’t know anything about politics.”
“I’ve been to Washington, and I heard, oh, so much talk about it there! I know all about war matters,” Lettice returned triumphantly. “You ought to have heard Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun! And even Mr. Randolph, I believe, would think we ought to defend ourselves if the enemy invades the country.”
Mrs. Hopkins went back to her first grievance. “And they will invade it. Nothing but discouraging news from your uncle, and no news at all from Joseph. We are not strong enough to resist this invading foe.”
“But just look at the victories at sea!”
“A few, to be sure; but as soon as the British are roused to a sense of the real situation, our little navy will be wiped out. I am told that they have said they will chastise us into submission.”