Incredulity struggled with joy, and was succeeded by a strange expression. His face grew stern, and his brows knit together in a heavy frown. He folded his arms across his breast as his sister approached, and made no motion to embrace her. Peggy was nonplussed at the change.

What did it mean! He had been so anxious for her coming, and so uneasy about her. She could not understand it. Harriet too seemed astonished at this strange reception.

"One moment," he said, and Peggy shivered at the coldness of his tones, "do you come, my sister, as a loyal Englishwoman, or as a rebel?"

"Loyal?" questioned Harriet wonderingly. "Why, of course I'm loyal. What else could I be?"

"And that Yankee captain? The one to whom you gave that shirt?"

"The Yankee captain?" A puzzled look flashed across Harriet's face. "Oh!

do you mean John Drayton? Well, what about him?"

"Is he not favored by you?" queried Clifford, a light beginning to glow on his countenance.

"Favored by me? John Drayton!" Harriet's lip curled in disdain. "What nonsense is this, Cliff? I dislike John Drayton extremely. Didn't Peggy tell you?"

"Then come," he said opening his arms.

"You silly boy," cried Harriet embracing him. "I am minded not to kiss you at all. What put such absurd notions in your head? How well you look! Not nearly so pale as Peggy is. One would think she was the invalid. Come, Peggy! 'Tis fine here under the trees. Sit down while you both hear about the gayeties of New York. And the war news! Oh, I have so much to tell. Sir Henry says the game is up with the colonies this summer. But oh, Cliff--"

"Have you been in New York?" he interrupted.

"Of course. Didn't Peggy tell you how the Most Honorable Council of the revolted colony of Pennsylvania," and Harriet's voice grew sarcastic, "banished me to that city because I tried to get a letter to Sir Henry Clinton concerning your exchange? It hath afforded much amus.e.m.e.nt at the dinners when I would take off Mr. Reed's solemn manner. 'Tis strange that Peggy did not tell you."

"She did," he replied, and turning he looked at Peggy as though seeing her for the first time. A gaze that embraced the gray gown that clung close to her slender figure; the snowy whiteness of her ap.r.o.n, the full fichu fastened firmly about the round girlish throat; and the simple cap of fine muslin that rested upon her dark tresses. "She did," he repeated, and paused expectantly as though for her to speak.

But she made no comment. It was enough that she was vindicated at last.

It had hurt Peggy that her cousin should doubt her word, and now her sole feeling was one of content that he should know that she had indeed spoken naught but truth.

"Then if Peggy told you that I was sent there I see not why you should ask if I came from there," spoke Harriet in perplexity. "Clifford, have you seen father?"

"No," his face clouding. "I dread meeting him, Harriet. You know that he left you and the home in my charge. Had I known that you would not remain I would never have left you. And why did you not stay there, my sister?"

"Alone, Clifford? Did you not know me better than that? Know then, brother mine, that if you can serve your country, Mistress Harriet Owen can also. Oh, I have seen service, sir. I was a spy in the rebel headquarters at Middlebrook, in the Jerseys, for nearly a whole winter."

"You, Harriet! A spy?" he cried aghast. "Not you, Harriet?"

"Don't get wrought up, Cliff. Father knew it, and consented. We were well paid for it. Didn't Peggy tell you about it?" Harriet turned a smiling countenance upon Peggy. "She knew all about it. I stayed with our cousins while there."

"I think there is much that Cousin Peggy hath not told me," he remarked, and again he looked at the girl with a curious intent glance. Peggy felt her color rise under his searching gaze. "I will depend upon you for enlightenment as to several things."

The shadows lengthened and crept close to the little group under the trees. Fireflies sparkled in the dusk of the twilight. A large white moth sailed out of the obscurity toward the lights which had begun to glimmer in the hospital windows. An owl hooted in a near-by walnut tree.

Peggy rose suddenly.

"We should not stay here," she said. "Clifford is no longer an invalid, 'tis true; still he should not remain out in the dew."

"I have scarcely begun to talk," demurred Harriet. "I think I should know what will suit my own brother, Peggy."

"Our Cousin Peggy is right, Harriet," observed Clifford in an unusually docile mood. "I should not be out in the dew, and neither should you.

To-morrow there will be ample opportunity to converse. I confess that I do feel a little tired. Then too there are matters to ponder."

"Of course if you are tired," said his sister rising, "we must go in.

To-morrow, Peggy, you will find yourself like Oth.e.l.lo-your occupation gone."

"I shall not mind," Peggy hastened to a.s.sure her. "Thy brother hath desired thy coming so much that I make no doubt that he will enjoy the companionship."

"I dare say he did want me," was Harriet's self-complacent remark.

"Still, Peggy, there's no denying the fact that you are a good nurse. Is it not strange, Clifford, that she hath nursed all three of us? Father when he was wounded in a skirmish at their house; me when I was ill of a fever, and now you."

"No; she hath not told me," he answered. "She hath been remiss in this at least, Harriet. Now--"

"I think mother did the most of the nursing," interrupted Peggy hastily.

"And after all, 'tis over now. There is no necessity to dwell upon what is past. We will bid thee good-night, my cousin."

"And where do you stay?" inquired Harriet as Clifford left them at the cottage gate. "Is this the place? How small it is! Will there be room for me, Peggy?"

"Thee can share my room, Harriet. Mother made arrangements with Nurse Johnson, with whom I came to Williamsburg, that I was to stay with her.

She is most kind, and will gladly receive thee."

"Let's hurry to bed," pleaded Harriet. "I do want to tell you about Major Greyling, and-well, some others. We can talk in bed."

"Very well," was Peggy's amused response. "But I have somewhat to tell thee also. Wilt promise to let me talk part of the time?"

"Don't be a goose," said Harriet giving her a little squeeze. "I have something important to tell you."

"Then come in," said Peggy, opening the door.

CHAPTER XXI-A RASH RESOLVE

"How much the heart may bear, and yet not break!

How much the flesh may suffer and not die!

I question much if any pain or ache Of soul or body brings our end more nigh: Death chooses his own time; till that is sworn, All evils may be borne."

-Elizabeth Akers Allen.

"Has thee had any news of the army lately, friend nurse?" questioned Peggy one morning a week after Harriet's arrival.

Nurse Johnson glanced quickly about to make sure that they were alone before she replied:

"I had a short letter from Fairfax a few days since, Peggy. He said that the Marquis had received word that a force under General Wayne was coming to help in the defense of the state. He was on the point of breaking camp at Richmond and marching up to the border to meet him.

Cornwallis hath already begun operations on the south side of the James.

'Tis said that he boasts that the people will return to their allegiance as soon as they find that their new rulers are not able to give them military protection. With that end in view the earl hath established a veritable reign of terror wherever his troops march. He is harrying and ravaging all plantations, running off the negroes, or inciting them against their masters. In truth," ended the good woman with some bitterness, "if aught escaped the vigilance of the invading forces under Phillips and Arnold it hath been reserved only for the keener eye of a more pitiless enemy."

"And thy son, friend nurse? Is he well?" inquired the girl, for a shadow lay on Nurse Johnson's brow that was not caused by the tidings of Cornwallis' ravages, harrowing as they were.

"I am worried about him, Peggy," she admitted. "He is in truth far from well, and feared an attack of fever when he wrote. He did not like to ask for leave to come home, the need of men is so great; but felt that he must do so did he not get better."