"The maid is clever," said Mrs. Masters.
Meanwhile the wine went round on the coasters over the mahogany table in the dining-room, and men talked of France, and grew hot with wine and more politics than pleased their host, who had no definite opinions, or, if any, a sincere doubt as to the quality of a too aged Madeira.
He gave a toast: "The ladies and our Quaker Venus." They drank it standing.
"This wine needs fining," said his reverence, the rector of Christ Church. They discussed it seriously.
Mr. Rawle cried, "A toast: George Washington and the Federal party."
"No politics, gentlemen," said Penn; "but I will drink the first half of it—His Excellency."
Mr. Langstroth on this day rode to town, and there learned that Margaret was at Landsdowne, and also a surprising piece of news with which he did not regale Mary Swanwick.
Full of what he had heard, Mr. Langstroth, being now on horseback and on his way to Gray Pines, his home, was suddenly minded to see his great-niece. Therefore he rode up the avenue at Landsdowne, and hitching his horse, learned that the men were still over their wine. "I will go in," he said, well pleased.
"Ah," said Penn, rising, "you are just in time for the punch." He hated the man and all his positive ways, but, the more for that, was courteous, if rather formal. "A glass for Mr. Langstroth. Your health, sir; your very good health."