“It is said, grandfather, that the Dutch church is anti-Federal to a man.”

“Not true are such sayings.  The church will be very like old Van Steenwyck, who boasts of his impartiality, and who votes for the Federals once, and for the anti-Federals once, and the third time does not vote at all.  If taken was the vote of the Church, it would be six for the Federals and half-a-dozen for the anti-Federals.”

“Mr. Burr—­”

“Of Mr. Burr I will not talk.  I like not his little dirty politics.”

“He is very clever.”

“Well, then, you have to praise him for being clever; for being honest you cannot praise him.”

“’Tis a monstrous pity that Right can only be on one side; yet sometimes Right and Mr. Burr may happen to be on the same side.”

“The right way is too straight for Aaron Burr.  If into it he wanders ’tis for a wrong reason.”

“My dear grandfather, how your words bite!”

“I wish not to say biting things; but Aaron Burr stands for those politicians who turn patriotism into shopkeeping and their own interest—­ men who care far more for who governs us than for how we are governed.  And what will be the end of such ways?  I will tell you.  We shall have a Democracy that will be the reign of those who know the least and talk the loudest.”

At this point in the conversation Van Heemskirk was called to the door about some business matter and George was left alone with his grandmother.  She was setting the tea-table, and her hands were full of china; but she put the cups quickly down, and going to George’s side, said—­

“Cornelia Moran spends this evening with her friend Arenta Van Ariens.  Well then, would thou like an excuse to call on Arenta?”

“Oh, grandmother!  Do you indeed know Arenta?  Can you send me there?”

“Since she was one month old I have known Arenta.  This morning, she came here to borrow for her Aunt Jacobus my ivory winders.  Now then, I did not wish to lend Angelica Jacobus my winders; and I said to Arenta that ‘by and by I would look for them.’  Not far are they to seek; and for thy pleasure I will get them, and thou canst take them this evening to Arenta.”

“O you dear, dear grandmother!” and he stood up, and lifted her rosy face between his hands and kissed her.

“I am so fond of thee,” she continued.  “I love thee so much; and thy pleasure is my pleasure; and I see no harm—­no harm at all—­in thy love for the beautiful Cornelia.  I think, with thee, she is a girl worth any man’s heart; and if thou canst win her, I, for one, will be joyful with thee.  Perhaps, though, I am a selfish old woman—­it is so easy to be selfish.”

“Let me tell you, grandmother, you know not how to be selfish.”