ve concern everywhere
expressed.

By the time we had reached home, Mr. and Mrs. Faringfield were already
there, discussing the news with my mother, in the presence of the two
daughters and Tom. We found them all in the parlour. Margaret stood in
the library doorway, still holding her novel in her hand, her finger
keeping the page. Her face showed but a languid interest in the
tragedy which made all the others look so grave.

"You've heard the news, of course?" said Mr. Faringfield to us as we
entered, curiously searching Philip's face while he spoke.

"Yes, sir; we were the first in the town to hear it, I think," replied
Phil.

"Tis a miracle if we do not have war," said Mr. Faringfield.

"I pray not," says my mother, who was a little less terrified than
Mrs. Faringfield. "And I won't believe we shall, till I see it at our
doors."

"Oh, don't speak of it!" cried Mrs. Faringfield, with a shudder.

"Why, ladies," says Philip, "'tis best to think of it as if 'twere
surely coming, and so accustom the mind to endure its horrors. I shall
teach my wife to do so." And he looked playfully over at Margaret.

"Why, what is it to me?" said Margaret. "Tis not like to come before
we sail, and in England we shall be well out of it. Sure you don't
think the rebels will cross the ocean and attack London?"

"Why, if war comes," said Phil, quietly, "we shall have to postpone
our sailing."

"Postpone it!" she cried, in alarm. "Why? And how long?"

"Until the matter is settled one way or another."

"But it won't come before we sail. 'Tis only seven weeks. Whatever
happens, they'll riddle away that much time first, in talk and
preparation; they always do."

"But we must wait, my dear, till the question is decided whether
there's to be war or peace. If we come round to the certainty of
peace, which is doubtful, then of course there's naught to hinder us.
But if there's war, why, we've no choice but to see it out before we
leave the country."

I never elsewhere saw such utter, indignant consternation as came over
Margaret's face.

"But why? For what reason?" she cried. "Will not vessels sail, as
usual? Are you afraid we shall be harmed on the sea? 'Tis ridiculous!
The rebels have no war-ships. Why need we stay? What have we to do
with these troubles? 'Tis not our business to put them down. The king
has soldiers enough."

"Ay," said Phil, surprised at her vehemence, but speaking the more
quietly for that, "'tis the colonie