“Oh, it is the truth!  It is the very truth, I assure you!  And while Hyde still lay between life and death, Miss Van Heemskirk married him; and as soon as he was able, he carried her off at midnight to England; and there they lived in a fine old house until the war.  Then they came back to New York, and Hyde went into the Continental army and did great things, I suppose, for as we all knew, he was made a general.  You should have heard Aunt Angelica tell the story.  She remembered the whole affair.  It was a delightful story to listen to, as we drank our chocolate.  And will you please only try to imagine it of Mrs. General Hyde!  A woman so lofty!  So calm!  So afar off from every impropriety that you always feel it impossible in her presence to commit the least bit of innocent folly.  Will you imagine her as Katherine Van Heemskirk in a short, quilted petticoat, with her hair hanging in two braids down her back, running away at midnight with General Hyde!”

“He was her husband.  She committed no fault.”

“I was thinking of the quilted petticoat, and the two braids; for who now dresses so extravagantly and so magnificently as Madame Hyde?  She has an Indian shawl that cost two hundred pounds.  Aunt Angelica says John Embree told her ’that much at the very least’—­and as for the General! is there any man in New York so proud, and so full of dignity—­ and morality?  He is in St. Paul’s Chapel every Sunday, and when you see him there, how could you imagine that he had fought half-a-dozen duels, for half-a-dozen beauties?”

“Half-a-dozen duels!  Oh, Arenta!”

“About that number—­more or less—­before and after the Van Heemskirk incident.  Look at him next Sunday, and then try and believe that he was the topmost leader in all the fashionable follies, until he went to the war.  People say it is General Washington—­”

“General Washington?”

“That has changed him so much.  They have been a great deal together, and I do believe the proprieties are catching.  If evil is to be taken in bad company, why not good in the presence of all that is moral and respectable?  At any rate, who is now more proper than General Hyde?  Indeed, as Aunt Angelica says, we must all pay our respects to the Hydes, if we desire our own caps to set straight.  Cornelia, shall I tell you why you are working so close to the window this afternoon?”

“You are going to say something I would rather not hear, Arenta.”

“Truth is wholesome, if not agreeable; and the truth is, you expect Lieutenant Hyde to pass.  But he will not do so.  I saw him booted and spurred, on a swift horse, going up the river road.  He was bound for Hyde Manor, I am sure.  Now, Cornelia, you need not move your frame; for no one will disturb you, and I wish to tell you some of my affairs.”

“About your lovers?”

“Yes.  I have met a certain French marquis, who is attached to the Count de Moustier’s embassy.  I met him at intervals all last winter, and to-day, I have a love letter from him—­a real love letter—­and he desires to ask my father for my hand.  I shall now have something to say to Madame Kippon.”