“That was too often.”

“He talked with father, and father did not oppose my dancing.”

“Your father thinks of nothing, now, but the Capital question.  I dare say, after he had asked Lieutenant Hyde how he felt on that subject he never thought of the young man again.  And pray what did Lieutenant Hyde say to you this afternoon?”

“He gave me the flowers, and he told me about a beautiful opera, of which I have never before heard.  It is called Figaro.  He says, in Europe, nothing is played, or sung, or whistled, but—­Figaro; that nobody goes to any opera but—­Figaro; and that I do not know the most charming music in the world if I do not know—­Figaro.  He asked permission to bring me some of the airs to-night, and I said some civilities.  I think they meant ‘Yes.’  Did I do wrong, mother?”

“I will say ‘no,’ my dear; as you have given the invitation.  But to prevent an appearance of too exclusive intimacy, write to Arenta, and ask her and Rem to take tea with us.  Balthazar will carry the note at once.”

“Mother, Arenta has bought a blue lute string.  Shall I not also have a new gown?  The gauzes are very sweet and genteel, and I think Mrs. Jay will not forget to ask me to her dance next week.  Mr. Jefferson is sure to be there, and I wish to walk a minuet with him.”

“Your father does not approve of Mr. Jefferson.  He has not spoken to him since his return from France.  He goes too far—­in his words.”

“But all the ladies of distinction are proud to be seen in his company; and pray what is there against him?”

“Only his politics, Cornelia.  I think New York has gone mad on that subject.  Madame Barens will not speak to her son, because he is a Federalist; and Madame Lefferts will not speak to her son, because he is not a Federalist.  Mr. Jefferson, also, is thought to favour Philadelphia for the capital; and your father is as hot on this subject as he was on the Constitution.  My dear, you will find that society is torn in two by politics.”

“But women have nothing to do with politics.”

“They have everything to do with politics.  They always have had.  You are not now in a Moravian school, Cornelia; and Bethlehem is not New York.  The two places look at life from different standpoints.”

“Then, as I am to live in New York, why was I sent to Bethlehem?”

“You were sent to Bethlehem to learn how to live in New York,—­or in any other place.  Where have you seen Mr. Jefferson?”

“I saw him this afternoon, in Cedar Street.  He wore his red coat and breeches; and it was then I formed the audacious intention of dancing with him.  I told Mrs. Willets of it; and she said, ’Mr. Jefferson carried the Declaration on his shoulders, and would not dare to bow;’ and then with such a queer little laugh she asked me ’if his red breeches did not make me think of the guillotine?’ I do not think Mrs. Willets likes Mr. Jefferson very much; but, all the same, I wish to dance once with him.  I think it will be something to talk about when I am an old woman.”