he taverns made themselves more decorous and respectable, the coffee
houses were really attractive, the theater ventured to offer quite a
variety of plays, and the assemblies began in a very select fashion.
There was also a more general desire for intelligence, and the days of
"avoiding Papishers and learning to knit" as the whole duty of women
were at an end.

There were grace and ease and refinement and wit, and a peaceable sort
of air since Congress had gone to Princeton.

Midwinter brought out-of-door amusements, though the season seemed
short, for spring came early, and in March parties were out hunting for
trailing arbutus and hardy spring flowers, exchanging tulip bulbs and
dividing rose bushes, as well as putting out trees and fine shrubbery
that was to make the city a garden for many a long year.

Primrose danced and was merry, and skated with Allin Wharton when Polly
and Phil could go, but she was very wary of confining herself to one.
She dropped in and cheered Aunt Lois and fascinated Faith with her
bright talk and her bright gowns and the great bow under her chin, for
even if it was gray it seemed the softest and most bewildering color
that ever was worn. Then she rode out and spent two or three days
frolicking with Betty's babies, and came home more utterly fascinating
than before.

"Oh, Primrose!" said Madam Wetherill, "I cannot think what to do with
thee. Thou wilt presently be the talk of the town."

"Oh, I think I will go to Virginia with Betty and bury myself in a great
southern forest where no one can find me. And I will take along pounds
of silk and knit some long Quaker stockings for Andrew, with beautiful
clocks in them. Hast thou not remarked, dear aunt, that he betrays a
tendency toward worldliness?"

"Thou art too naughty, Primrose."

It was fortunate for women's purses that one did not need so many gowns
as at the present day, even if they did take out with them marvelous
sums. But thinking men were beginning to see the evil of the old
Continental money and trying to devise something better, with that able
financier, Robert Morris, at their head.

The wedding finery was bought, and the looms at Germantown supplied webs
of cloth to be made up in table napery and bedding. There were old laces
handed down, and some brocade petticoats, and two trained gowns that had
come from England long before. Primrose and Margaret Wharton were
bridesmaids, and, oddly enough, Captain Vane, for he had a