We still stood by the open door, whence we had watched the carriage
disappear. After some seconds of silence I essayed to bring back the
conversation to Lady Johnson, and talked of her narrow, ill-informed,
purely one-sided way of regarding the troubles, and of how impossible it
was that the class to which she belonged, no matter how amiable and good
they might be, could ever adapt themselves to the enlarging social
conditions of this new country.

While I talked, there burst forth suddenly the racket of fifes and drums
in the road. Some militia companies were marching past on their way to
join Colonel Dayton's force. We stood and watched these go by, and in the
noise that they made we failed to hear Mr. Stewart's tottering footsteps
behind us.

The din of the drums had called him out of his lethargy, and he came
forward to watch the yeoman-soldiery.

"They march badly--badly," he said, shielding his eyes from the sun with
his hand. "I do not know the uniform. But I have been away so long, and
everything is changed since the King of Prussia began his wars. Yet I am
happier here as I am--far happier with my fields, and my freedom, and my
children."

He had spoken in the tone, half-conversational, half-dreamy, which of late
strangely marked most of his speech. He turned now and looked at us; a
pleasant change came over his wan face, and he smiled upon us with a
curious reflection of the old fond look.

"You are good children," he said; "you shall be married in due time, and