rupture between Dorothe and her husband's relatives. She still greeted
them with half-smiles; but those half-smiles were cold and uncongenial,
and there seemed to be a settled purpose on her part as well as theirs
to dislike each other. To no one did Dorothe express this dislike save
to her husband, and to him she never lost an opportunity for doing so.

In 1654, Claybourne, who was in possession of Kent Island, was
threatened by the Catholics from Maryland, and John Stevens, with his
friend Hugh Price and half a dozen more, went to aid in the defence of
the island. They camped at the mouth of the Severn, in the vicinity of
the present city of Annapolis, where they were joined by Claybourne and
a body of three hundred men.

On the 25th of March, 1654, Stone sailed with a force down the river,
landed and attacked Claybourne. At early dawn the sleeping Puritans were
awakened by the boom of cannon and volleys of muskets. They arose,
formed their lines of battle and poured a tremendous fire upon the
enemy. The Marylanders landed and tried to storm their fort; but after
an hour retreated, leaving twenty killed and twice as many wounded on
the field. Claybourne had conquered and, for a brief space of time, was
to hold sway over the Severn and Kent Island.

John Stevens returned to his home to find that his wife's extravagance
had impoverished his estates and almost brought him to beggary. He had
remonstrated with her without avail. She wrecked her husband's fortune
for a few weeks of vain show.

"Were you more prudent, Dorothe," said John, "we could soon live at
ease. I have fine estates and earn money sufficient to make us
comfortable for life and leave a competency for our children."