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Updated: June 21, 2025
Ruth Schuyler's hand lingered a moment in mine, as I bade her adieu, and she said, wistfully, "I wish you would tell me just what you think we had better do. I am so unaccustomed to judging for myself in any important matter." "I think it is wise to get Mr. Stone," I returned. "In any case it can do no harm, you know." "No, I suppose not," and she gave me one of her rare smiles of appreciation.
As though Mary's words had power to call her, Azzie at that moment came down the corridor, swinging herself lazily along. "This is the sixth time I've started for Mrs. Schuyler's room," she began at the sight of the girls. "But the moment I reach the door, my heart drops down into my shoes, and it's so heavy, I can't move my feet an inch."
And now, she desired only peace and quietness somewhere, anywhere, away from the two who represented Randolph Schuyler's tyranny and carping criticism without his right to obtrude them on her. "I will speak to them," I said, "and I'm sure we can arrange some mode of life for you which will give you rest and freedom of judgment."
I saw, too, General Schuyler's letter of condolence, but this was later. Nothing had moved me like this. I went away, leaving the father and my aunt. People came to this strong woman, sure of her tenderest help, and I trust she comforted her friend in his loss. This was the first officer of our own set our city lost in war, and the news, I think, affected me more than any.
Distrust and dissension were already rife in St. Leger's camp, when such reports came in as to lead many to believe that Burgoyne had been totally defeated, and that the whole of Schuyler's army, or a great part of it, was coming up the Mohawk. This news led to riot and panic among the troops, and on August 22 St.
With this in her mind, she donned her dress again, and, with Mistress Schuyler's mantle over her shoulders, noiselessly crept down the narrow staircase, passed the sleeping servant on the settee, and, opening the rear door, in another moment was inhaling the crisp air, and tripping down the crisp snow of the hillside.
A detailed chronicle of these raids and counter-raids would be both long and complicated, but in addition to the incidents which have been mentioned there remain three which deserve separate comment Peter Schuyler's invasion of Canada in 1691, the activities of the Abnakis against New England, and Frontenac's invasion of the Onondaga country in 1696.
Rose looked wistful, but she did not ask to go. The others were not thinking of her. "Do you know the Château Lontana?" she inquired of Schuyler's chauffeur. "And have you got your papers for Italy?" The man, who was English, touched his cap. "Yes, Madam, I know where the place is. And everything is in order."
Madame d'Ambre exclaimed, her soft wistfulness flashing into anger. "These sympathetic ones have saved me from myself by their generosity. They have made me happy. Why do you go out of your way to remind me of misery?" Schuyler's blue eyes twinkled cynically, yet not unkindly. "I quite understand that you can be saved from yourself only by sufficient generosity, Madame," he said.
An acquaintance of my sister's, who is eligible for the post, if she suits you. Shall I send her round to see you to-morrow?" "Yes, please. Your mention of her is enough recommendation. I want, Mr. Calhoun, to do more or less charitable work this winter. That was another of Mr. Schuyler's whims, to attend to all charities himself, and to object to my giving anything personally.
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