“They are not a bad lot,” admitted Morris, “if they had all seen more of the world and less of their native or adopted State—­all this State patriotism makes me sick.  Half were not born in the State they vociferate about, are not certain of ending their days in it, nor of which their children may adopt as intemperately.”

“Travel is not the only cure for provincialism,” said General Schuyler.  “Dr. Franklin, I happen to know, is bent upon a form of government little firmer than the one now existing; and Hamilton, whose travels are limited to campaigning in the different States, has a comprehensive grasp of European political machinery, and the breadth of vision such knowledge involves, which could gain nothing by personal contact.”

“Dr. Franklin was too long a mendicant at foreign courts not to be besottedly in love with their antithesis, and Hamilton has a brain power and an intellectual grasp which quite remove him from the odiums of comparison,” said Morris.  “I think myself he is fortunate in never having visited Europe, deeply as he may regret it; for with his faculty of divination he goes straight for what is best only—­or most essential.  Had he lived there, the details and disappointments might have blocked his vision and upset the fine balance of his mind.  There she is!”

He was at the window as quickly as he could have flung a book to the lilacs, despite his wooden leg; and he was followed by Troup and General Schuyler, demanding “Who?”

“Mrs. Croix—­there.  Did anything so lovely ever dawn upon a distracted American’s vision?  ’Tis said she is an unregistered daughter of the house of Capet, and I vow she looks every inch a princess.  I stared at her so long last night in Vauxhall that she was embarrassed; and I never saw such poise, such royal command of homage.  How has she developed it at the age of eighteen?  I half believe this tale of royal birth; although there are those who assert that she is nothing less than the daughter of our highest in honour.”

“’Tis said that she had an opportunity to acquire her aplomb in the village of Rutland, Massachusetts, where for some years she enlivened the exile and soothed the domestic yearnings of many British officers,” said Troup.  “One told me that he would vow she was none other than the famous vagrant ‘Betsey.’”

“But I am told that she comes of a respectable Rhode Island family named Bowen,” observed General Schuyler, who was not romantic.  “That she was wayward and ran off with Colonel Croix, of whose other wife there is no proof, but that none of these fancy stories are true.”

“Then wherein lies her claim to the name of Capet?” demanded Morris.  “’Twould be nothing remarkable were she a daughter of Louis V., and I’m told she signs her name Eliza Capet Croix.”

“I don’t know,” said Schuyler, meekly. “’Tis easy enough to assume a name, if you have it not.  I am told that Lady Sterling is assured of her respectability.  She certainly shines upon us like a star at this moment.  I did not know that women had such hair.”