"But thy cousin may get well," interposed Betty. "Just think of the romance contained in an unknown cousin. The relationship is just near enough to be interesting," she ended with such a languishing air that both Peggy and Sally shook her.

"Such an utterance from a member of The Social Select Circle," rebuked Peggy. "I'm surprised at thee, Betty."

"Oh, the edict against the other s.e.x is revoked now," declared Betty.

"And didn't we always have better times when Robert was with us than when we were alone?"

"We wouldn't now, though," answered Sally. "He doesn't speak French, Betty."

"Sally, thee is dreadful! Don't listen to her, Peggy. She is always trying to tease."

"I shall not, Betty," consoled Peggy, casting a mischievous glance at Sally. "Never mind. Thee is patriotic, anyway."

"How?" asked Sally as Betty, foreseeing some further jest, would not speak.

"By helping to cement the French Alliance, of course," laughed Peggy.

"Thee is worse than Sally," pouted Betty turning to look out of the window. "Peggy, is thee to go in a one-horse cabriolet? Because there is one coming up Chestnut Street now. Let me see! A woman is within and it is driven by a young man. Heigh-ho! 'Tis a promising outlook. There is a baggage wagon following with two men on the seat. Thee will be well escorted, Miss Peggy Owen."

"It must be the nurse," exclaimed Peggy. "And mother is calling, too.

Come, girls."

They ran lightly down-stairs, and soon Mrs. Johnson, the nurse, was shown in. She was a large, motherly-looking woman of middle age, with a pleasant smile and kind eyes. Peggy felt drawn to her at once.

"And so this is to be my young companion," she said, drawing the girl toward her as Mrs. Owen presented her daughter. "I predict that we shall be great friends, my dear. Of a truth 'twas most pleasing news when the doctor told me that I should have your company. The journey is long, 'twill take all of ten days to reach Williamsburg, so that unless there is conversation to enliven the way, 'tis apt to be most tedious. Now, Fairfax, my son, is an excellent escort but an indifferent talker. He looks well to the needs of the horses, and we shall not suffer for lack of attention, save and except conversation from him. That we shall have to furnish ourselves."

"The cabriolet is somewhat light to carry three persons," observed Mrs.

Owen reflectively as she returned from carrying out some bundles to the baggage wagon.

"We considered that, madam, but Fairfax will ride part of the time in the baggage wagon when the roads become so rough that the load seems heavy for the horse. 'Tis too bad that he has not his horse with him, but we knew not when we came that we were to have the pleasure of Miss Peggy's company on our return. We shall manage nicely, I dare say. The two men in the baggage wagon are an addition also that we did not expect. They have charge of some supplies for the hospital which Dr.

Cochran is sending with us. I was glad to have them. 'Tis more agreeable in a long journey to have a party."

"Mother!" breathed Peggy, her eyes glowing with the idea. "Could not the young man ride Star?"

"I was just thinking of that, my child," said Mrs. Owen with an indulgent smile. "'Tis in truth a way opened for thee to take thy pony."

"Do you indeed mean that Fairfax may ride a horse of yours, my dear?"

questioned Nurse Johnson, rising. "Why, that is most welcome news. You are generous."

"Nay," protested Peggy. "I thought mostly of myself, I fear; I wish very much to have my little mare with me, and I do not deserve thy praise, friend nurse--" She paused in some confusion. "I should say Mrs.

Johnson."

"Nay; let it be friend nurse," replied the good woman laughing. "I think I like it. And I shall call you Peggy. And your own saddle can be put in the baggage wagon, and you can take a little gallop occasionally to relieve the monotony of riding."

"Thee relieves me of all fear that Peggy will not be well taken care of," declared Mrs. Owen as the two left the room. "And sheets, friend?

Has thee plenty of them? If there is room I could give thee a number."

The nurse's eyes filled with tears.

"We have need of everything, madam," she said. "'Twill gladden our hearts to receive anything in the nature of supplies."

They were ready at last, and Peggy approached her girl friends for a last good-bye.

"Thee has a silent knight for thy escort, Peggy," whispered Betty through her tears, with a glance in the direction of Nurse Johnson's son, who had not spoken to them. "Be sure to write in the diary if he speaks to thee at all through the journey. And mind! thee must put down the very words he says."

"Betty, Betty, thee is grown frivolous," expostulated Peggy. "Sally, thee must deal with her severely."

"She shall help me to care for the next doughty Englishman that comes to the hospital," declared Sally. "Still, Peggy, if the young man should break his silence 'twould be naught amiss to record the happening, for the delectation of The Circle."

"Thee is as bad as Betty, Sally. I shall keep the diary right with me, girls, and put down whatever of interest occurs."

"And thou wilt send word of thy safe arrival as soon as thou canst, my child," said Mrs. Owen, holding her close. "If such a thing should be that thy cousin recovers we will see what can be done anent his coming here. And now farewell!"

Peggy clung to her without replying, and then quietly took her place in the cabriolet beside the nurse. She smiled bravely at them, and as the cabriolet started she leaned out and waved farewell as long as she could see her mother.

CHAPTER XI-ON THE ROAD

"The rolling world is girdled with the sound, Perpetually breathed from all who dwell Upon its bosom, for no place is found Where is not heard, 'Farewell.'"

-Celia Thaxter.

As the little caravan turned from Chestnut Street into Seventh so that she could no longer see her home Peggy's lips quivered, and it was with difficulty that she refrained from bursting into tears.

"Give not way to idle grief at our parting," her mother had admonished her. "Thee will have need of all thy fort.i.tude to attend thy cousin, and 'twere sinful to waste thy strength in weeping."

With this counsel in mind the girl struggled bravely against her emotion, and presently, wiping her eyes, turned toward the nurse. For youth is ever buoyant, and it is not natural for it to give way long to sadness. They had pa.s.sed the Bettering House by this time and were well on their way toward the lower ferry.

"Thee will think me but a dull companion, I fear, friend nurse," she said. "But I grieve to leave my mother even for so short a time. In truth, I have but recently returned home after a long absence."

"Partings are always sad, my child, even when they are but for a few days," replied Nurse Johnson sympathetically. "I felt just so when I bade my sister farewell this morning. We had not seen each other for ten years until I came for this visit, and 'tis like to be as long again before we get another glimpse of each other if this fearful war continues. In times such as these separation from loved ones is fraught with more than the usual sorrow; for one never knows what will happen.

But you have borne up bravely, child. I feared a scene. Most girls would have treated me to such. You have the making of a good nurse, Peggy, with such control."

"'Tis another time that I merit not thy praise," explained the maiden.

"'Tis all due to mother. She cautioned me about giving way to my feelings, thinking that I would need my strength for the journey."

"Your mother is right," said Nurse Johnson soberly. "The way is long and we shall have much ado to beguile the tediousness of it. As a beginning, can you tell me if those earthworks yonder are the remains of British entrenchments?"

"Yes," answered the girl. "Traces of their lines are still discoverable in many places about the city. If thee rode out the Bristol road at all thee must have seen a large redoubt which commands the Delaware. Its parapet is considered of great elegance, though there are those that contend that the parapet was constructed with more regard to ornament than for fortification. Just this side of the battery are the barracks they built."

"And were you in the city when they held possession?"

"No. Mother and I were at Strawberry Hill, our farm on the Wissahickon.

Thee should have seen our city before the enemy held it, friend nurse.

There were great trees all along the banks of the Schuylkill here which were called the Governor's Woods. The English cut them down for fire-wood, and to help build their fortifications. And so many of our beautiful country places were burned."

"'Tis so all over the land, my child," returned the nurse sadly. "War leaves a train of wrecked and desolated homes wherever it is waged. We of Virginia have been fortunate so far to escape a wholesale ravage of the state. True, there have been some predatory incursions, but the state as a whole has not been overrun by the enemy. If General Greene can continue to hold Lord Cornwallis' attention in the Carolinas we may not suffer as those states have."