"Yes, we will go—and our compliments and thanks to Mistress Letitia and Mistress Frances for their asking. Deborah, child, you must have tabby for a new petticoat; and I shall get you all muslins."
"And I must have a new set of plumes for—"
"Mother, may I not have a flowered paduasoy this year?"
"Come, come, girls! 'Tis our turn now! Surely, doctor, you do not imagine us interested in sales of silk stockings and satins? What is the news for us?" asked Vincent, with a slight smile.
Benedict Calvert laughed. "Troth, sir, 'tis not every man that is so unfeignedly disdainful of silk stockings and satins, whether for his own attire or for a lady's. Howbeit, there is other news that you may like to hear. In the assembly yesterday the matter of the commissioners for Lancaster was finally settled. Word has come from Virginia that the council will open on the 25th of June. Our men will probably leave here on the 20th; and—"
"I am elected to go, devil take me!" cried Sir Charles, ruefully.
"No such luck. Do not bemoan thyself, Charlie. Not one of the Governor's staff, and only one official—Marshe—is of the number," returned Benedict, grinning broadly. "'Twas a prudent choice. Not a Radical on either side."
"Then the doctor's scarce in," observed Vincent.
"That am I not," returned the doctor with eminent good-humor. "But Mr. Calvert—the worshipful Mr. Calvert—is; and so are Phil Thomas, and the Reverend Mr. Cradock, and Edmund Jennings, and Colvill, and—ah, yes! Bob King. There, at least, is one Radical for you. Well, well! Even such as they should manage, together with their right honorable compeers from Virginia and Pennsylvania, to buy the right of our colonial lands from the Six Nations—after a hundred and fifty years of occupancy willy-nilly!"
"Quite so. And now that's all our news, Madam Trevor. Does it equal the breakfast?"