“It were but a silly scheme, Gainor. I cannot credit it.”
“Who could, John? and yet it is to be tried, and all for a matter of a few hundred pounds a year. It will be tried not now or soon, but next fall when the tea-ships come from China.”
“And if it is to be as thou art informed, what of it?”
“A storm—a tempest in a teapot,” said she.
My father stood still, deep in thought. He had a profound respect for the commercial sagacity of this clear-headed woman. Moreover, he was sure, as usual, to be asked to act in Philadelphia as a consignee of the India Company.
She seemed to see through her brother, as one sees through glass. “You got into trouble when the stamps came.”
“What has that got to do with this?”
“And again when you would not sign the Non-importation Agreement in ‘68.”
“Well?”
“They will ask you to receive the tea.”