He paused.

"General," began Marjorie, "you know the people still worship you and they do want you for their popular leader."

"I know differently," he snapped back. "I have already petitioned Congress for a grant of land in western New York, where I intend to lead the kind of life led by my friend Schuyler in Livingston, or the Van Renssalaers and other country gentlemen. My ambition now is to be a good citizen, for I intend never to draw a sword on the American side."

He again grew silent.

Whether he was sincere in his remarks, and his manner of expression seemingly revealed no other disposition of mind, or was swayed simply by some unfounded antipathy which caused the image of his aversion to become a sort of hallucination, Marjorie could not decide. She knew him to be impulsive and irrepressible, a man who, because of his deficiency in breadth, scope of intelligence, and strong moral convictions, invariably formed his opinions in public matter on his personal feelings. He was a man of moods, admirably suited withal for a command in the field where bluntness and abruptness of manner could cause him to rise to an emergency, but wholly unfitted for this reason for a diplomatic office where the utmost delicacy of tact and nicety of decision are habitually required.

She knew, moreover, that he ever bore a fierce grudge towards Congress for the slights which it had put upon him, and that this intense feeling, together with his indomitable self-will, had brought him into conflict with the established civil authority. He was Military Governor of the city and adjacent countryside, yet there existed an Executive Council of Pennsylvania for the care of the state, and the line of demarcation between the two powers never had been clearly drawn. Accordingly there soon arose many occasions for dispute, which a more even-tempered man would have had the foresight to avoid. His point of view was narrow, not only in affairs civil and political, but it must be said, in social and religious as well. Of all commanders, he was the most unsuited for the task.

Furthermore she knew that he was becoming decidedly more unpopular each day, not only because of the extravagance in his manner of living, but also because of his too frequent association with the Tory element of the city. While the British had held the city many of the more aristocratic inhabitants had given them active aid and encouragement, much to the displeasure of the more loyal though less important lower class. Consequently when the days of the evacuation had come and the city had settled down once again to its former style of living, many of the Tory element were compelled to leave town while those who had remained behind were practically proscribed. Small wonder was it that indignation ran riot when the first Military Governor openly cast his lot with the enemies of the cause and consorted with them freely and frequently.

It was entirely possible that he would abide by his decision to resign all public office and retire to private life, notwithstanding the fact that he already had at this same moment despatched a letter to General Washington requesting a command in the navy. But she read him differently and found herself surprised to learn of his intended withdrawal, for his very nature seemed to indicate that he would fight his cause to the bitter end, and that end one of personal satisfaction and revenge.

Several of the guests prepared to depart. The little group disbanded as Peggy made her way to their side.

Marjorie and John Anderson lost each other for the first time in the mêlée which ensued.