“Why, because it is going to be so very uncomfortable for all Loyalists here in the city.”
“I do not quite see what you mean, Mrs. Rainsford.”
“No, of course not, dear,” replied Mrs. Rainsford (seeming to regard Aunt Frances in the light of an older daughter, though, in point of fact, there was but little difference in their ages.) “No, of course not; your kind heart would never dream of such things as are happening on every side. The leading Whigs, now that the Revolution has been successful, say that they'll make this town too hot to hold a single Tory, and, mark my words, they'll do it, too. Perhaps you haven't noticed how the Bonifaces were treated tonight; they went home some time ago.”
“Why, Mrs. Rainsford, can that be possible?” questioned Aunt Frances, looking vainly about the room in search of her friends; “I call that cruelty of the most unwarrantable sort.”
“Yes, it must be very humiliating to say the least; but then they have brought it upon themselves, you must remember,” for Mrs. Rainsford was herself a most ardent Whig, and thought the Loyalists, whether English or American, should be made to pay very dearly for their behavior.
“You ought to have seen your garden this summer, Miss Avery,” continued Mrs. Rainsford, reverting to their former subject. “Captain Wadsworth must be very fond of flowers. He took the best of care of it.”
“I think I could not have borne to see it, Mrs. Rainsford.”
“No, perhaps not, dear child; and to think that you really have Alexander Hamilton to thank for it all. You must hate him. He is here to-night, you know, with his young wife. I don't wonder she turned the heads of the officers at Morristown. You know she went to visit her aunt while Washington had his headquarters there, and Hamilton was his aide-de-camp, and fell in—”
“Sh—” interrupted Aunt Frances, who saw that Colonel Hamilton was not very far off, and might easily overhear what they were saying; and, indeed, he was not far off, for the very good reason that, in the company of his friend, Major Potter, every step was bringing him nearer.
Imagine, if you can, Aunt Frances's surprise when Major Potter, whom she knew quite well, paused before her, and bowing low, with old-time grace and courtliness, said slowly, “May I take the liberty, Miss Avery, of presenting my friend, Colonel Hamilton?”