"Now, little rebel!" exclaimed Philemon Henry, "you must lay down your arms. Surely you should meet us half-way?"

"What arms?" archly, smiling out of mischievous eyes.

"A sharp and saucy tongue. Sometimes you are hardly just to Vane, and in your eyes he should be a patriot."

"He is. But surely I do not talk half as bad as Mrs. Ferguson and Miss Jeffries. One would think, listening to them, that the Americans had no sense, and could not govern the country they fought for. Why do not people like these go back to England?"

"Shall I go?" in a voice of sad indecision.

"If you talked like that I should bid you a joyous send off! What a pity Miss Jeffries had not married one of Howe's officers; then she would have to go when they are all sent out of the country. And poor old Mr.

Jeffries hath quite lost his head. Aunt hates to play with him any more, for he loses incessantly."

"But do not the soldiers need something out of the fund?"

They both laughed at that.

"No doubt we could still find some with well-worn shoes. But the need not being urgent, she hates to impoverish the old man who hath lost so much. For it seems he made some heavy bets upon Lord Cornwallis reducing the southern Colonies and entering Philadelphia in triumph. And even now he is sure the King will never consent to the separation."

"Which shows how much the King loved the Colonies."

"A queer love, that would deprive them of any kind of freedom. No, my kind of love is broad and generous, and not thinking how much profit one can squeeze out," and her lovely eyes were deep with intense feeling.

"When wilt thou give me a little of this measure?"

"Oh, Phil, am I very naughty and cross?" and her sweet voice would have disarmed anyone. "But I think sometimes you are only half converted. You talk of returning to England, and it grieves me."

"But if I stay here I must find some business. I am not very lucky at cards. I have resigned my position, and now that poor old Sir Wyndham is dead and the income shrunk sadly, I can count on no more from that quarter. There is only the interest on what my dear father invested for me, and that may pay but poorly. They will hardly want to make a rebel officer of me, since if peace comes they will disband many of the regiments. To beg I am ashamed. I hardly know how to work. If I went home and re-enlisted--England always hath some wars on hand."

"They are a naughty, quarrelsome nation, and then they wonder how we come to have so much s.p.u.n.k and bravery! No, thou shalt not go back.

Business here will stir up. Then men talk to Madam Wetherill about it.

And I think thou hast wit enough to learn. Thou shalt get settled here, and--and marry some pretty rebel wife----"

"And quarrel with her?" mirthfully.

"Nay, she shall be better tempered than I. Everybody hath spoiled me, and I am a shrew. No man will ever want to marry me, and I am glad of that."

CHAPTER XXI.

AN APRIL GIRL.

"On Thursday next I shall have a birthday," said Primrose Henry. "And I shall be seventeen. Yet I never can catch up with Polly, who is nineteen."

"Well--some day thou wilt be nineteen. And what shall we do for thee?

Wilt thou have a party?"

"I am tired of parties, and it is growing warm to dance. I believe in a fortnight or so the army is to leave. Andrew is going with the commander at first, but, if he is not needed, will come back. He makes such a handsome soldier."

"Thou art a vain little moppet, always thinking whether people look fine or not."

"But Andrew is handsome of himself. I wish Phil came up to six feet and past. I think the Nevitts could not have been overstocked with beauty."

"How thou dost flout the poor lad! I wonder that he loves thee at all!"

"But I love him," with charming serenity.

"And show it queerly."

Primrose gave her light, rippling laugh.

"I think"--after a pause, twirling her sewing around by the thread--"I think we will all take a walk about the dear old town. Then we will come home and have tea, and rest ourselves."

"But why not ride? I am too old and too stout to be trotting about, and Patty is hardly----"

"Patty will flirt with my fine cousin. Oh, I have caught her at it. You would be amazed to know the secrets they have with each other, and the low-toned talk that goes on. I have to be severe, and to be severe on one's birthday would be hard indeed."

Madam Wetherill laughed.

"Betty Mason was complaining of being so mewed up all winter. And now her baby is old enough to leave, and she might come down and see the changes planned for the town, and the other changes since the winter she had her gay fling. What a little girl I was! And she being a widow can watch us, but Phil has such sharp eyes that he might be a veritable dragon. He will not let me buy a bit of candied calamus unless the boy is under ten, he is so afraid I shall be looked at. And there will be Polly's brother to watch her. But Betty will have two attendants, which is hardly fair, and she thinks Gilbert Vane quite a hero."

"And Andrew Henry?"

"Oh, she is soft-hearted about him because he has lost his fortune. And Gilbert Vane is like to lose his in the general settling up. So she can administer the same kind of consolation to both."

"Thou hast a shrewd way of allotting matters. Poor Betty! It will be nice to ask her since you both have brothers to watch over you. And you will not stray very far? Then what delicacies will you have for supper?"

"Oh, we shall be hungry as wolves. I must see what Mistress Kent can give us. She thinks soldiers have grown hollow by much tramping and cannot be filled up."

Madam Wetherill smiled indulgently.

They all promised to come. Julius went out on Wednesday and brought in Betty, who was delighted with the outing.

But when Primrose opened her eyes at six in the morning there was a gentle patter everywhere, and dashes on the window pane. But, oh! how sweet all the air was, and the clouds were having a carnival in the sky, chasing each other about in the vain endeavor to cover up the bits of laughing blue.

"Patty," in a most doleful voice, "it rains!"

"To be sure, child," cheerfully. "What would you have on an April day?

And if it rains before seven 'twill clear before eleven. There will be no dust for your walk."

"You are a great comforter, Patty. Are you sure it will stop by noon?"

"Oh, la, yes! April days can never keep a whole mind."

"That must be the reason I am so changeable."

"I dare say. But I was born in November, and I like to change my mind.