"But would he wish thee to be there, my child?" questioned Mrs. Owen gravely. "I cannot but think that he would prefer that thee should remain with us until he either comes or sends for thee."

"He would not mind if I were with Clifford," returned the girl lightly.

"We could have great sport there together. Besides, if I wish it father would not care. If he did I could soon bring him to look at the affair with my eyes. I usually do about as I please; don't I, Peggy?"

"Yes; but Cousin William did not always approve of thy way," reminded Peggy. "If thee continues to dwell in the house thy father had 'twill cost greatly, and once he spoke to me about thy extravagance. He said that both thee and thy brother were like to bring him to grief. 'Twas for that reason that he welcomed the idea that I should look after the expense. Does thee not remember?"

"I remember naught but that I wondered that you should prefer housewifery to pleasuring," answered Harriet gayly. "Father is always complaining about extravagance, but he likes right well for me to appear bravely before his friends. La! when one has position to maintain one must spend money, and no one knows it any better than my father."

Peggy was silent. Did her cousin wish her brother's exchange solely that she might return to New York, or was she in truth anxious to be where she could hear from her father? Had she really any natural affection for either, she wondered. Harriet began to laugh at her expression.

"I always know when you are displeased, cousin mine," she said putting her arm about her. "You pull down the corner of your mouth, so." Suiting the action to the word. "And your eyebrows go up, so. Now, confess: when you were with us, didn't you want to come back to your own people?"

"Yes," admitted Peggy, "I did. But it was because of my mother. Thy father would not be with thee there, and as thy brother is in the army also, he may be sent anywhere in the States at any time. While I know that thee must find it far from agreeable to be with those who are not of thy politics, still 'tis the wish of thy father that thee should stay here."

"Will you never be naught but a prim little Quakeress?" cried Harriet shaking her. "Know then that I have wishes too, and friends there who are almost as close as kinspeople. Then, too, you would be relieved of me here. Just think how delightsome that would be," she ended teasingly.

"I am not thinking of us at all," confessed truthful Peggy, "but of what is best for thee. I feel as though I were responsible to Cousin William for thee."

"Don't you worry, mother mentor," cried Harriet dancing about gleefully.

"When Clifford comes your responsibility ceases. How he will laugh when he finds that I can no longer care for myself. I am going now to my room, little mother. If I stay longer than you think best call me."

"Thee is saucy," was Peggy's retort, as Harriet ran out of the room, pausing only long enough to make a mouth at her.

But Harriet's high spirits had vanished the next morning when she returned from her visit to Mr. Reed.

"What think you?" she cried bursting in upon Peggy who was ironing in the kitchen. "Mr. Reed will see that the parole is given Clifford, but the exchange must wait until an American prisoner is found of equal rank with Clifford, who can be given for him. Isn't it provoking!"

"I should think thee could bear the delay patiently so long as thee will have thy brother with thee," remarked Peggy quietly. "'Twould be far more vexatious if the parole could not be given."

"Why, of course, Peggy. Oh, well! I suppose that I must content myself.

Thank fortune, I can at least write to Clifford. If he were not in the rebel lines even that would be denied me. I am going to write him now."

"Mr. Reed was much taken with Harriet," observed Mrs. Owen, entering the kitchen as the English maiden left it.

"But not more than thee appears to be, mother," smiled Peggy. "'Tis amusing to see the difference with which thee regards her now, and the way it was at Middlebrook."

"She seems much improved," answered her mother. "Does thee not think so?

So much more thoughtful of others. It did not strike me that she was much given to consideration then; but now--"

"But now thee has had her under thy wing for nearly three months; thee has nursed her back to health, and humored her every whim as though she were a child of thine until thee regards her as though she were thy very own. Thou dear mother!" The girl stopped her ironing long enough to kiss her mother tenderly. "Doesn't thee know that whatever thee broods over thee loves?"

Mrs. Owen laughed.

"How well thee knows me, Peggy. But thou art fond of her too, art thou not?"

"Yes, I am, mother," admitted the girl. "Whenever we go anywhere I am proud of her beauty, and that she is my cousin. And my friends here are charmed with her. Even Sally and Betty-though she sometimes makes dreadful speeches because of being for the king. She can be so sweet, mother, that at times I must steel myself against her, lest I should be more tolerant of her opinions than is wise."

"As to her being for the king, my child, that, as thee knows, is because of being English. And I would not have her feign a belief in the cause of Liberty did she not of a truth hold it to be just. An open foe is ever best, Peggy."

"It isn't politics, mother. At least not her feeling toward us, though it is trying to stand some of her comments, but--"

"Peggy, thee is troubled anent something," a.s.serted the lady taking Peggy's face between her hands and gazing anxiously into her eyes. "What is it, my child?"

"'Tis anent the delay, mother. Should the exchange be effected quickly then there would be no cause for worry. But if it must be long, as Harriet thinks it may be, then I fear that my cousin will try to communicate with Sir Henry Clinton. In fact, she spoke of doing it yesterday, and I cautioned her against it. She said that she would not bring harm to us; but, mother, at her home in New York she was not always scrupulous about her promise. In truth, she let nothing stand in her way when she had her heart set on doing a thing. I intended telling thee about the chat when we returned from our ride yesterday, but what with the celebration and the letters it escaped my mind."

"Thee may dismiss the matter from thy thoughts, Peggy, for she spoke about that very thing to Mr. Reed. He told her that it would not help the exchange at this time, but that after her brother came it could be taken up. Then, he said, he would see that whatever she might wish to communicate to the British commander should reach him."

"Oh, I am so glad," exclaimed Peggy. "It hath given me no small concern, mother. I did not think my cousin would wittingly cause us trouble, but I feared that on the impulse of the moment, she might try to pa.s.s a letter through the lines. Thee knows what that would mean, mother?"

"Yes; and she does also, for Mr. Reed went into it with her. He told her to be very careful in speaking even about writing to Sir Henry, as the people were in no mood to tolerate communications with the enemy. She understands all that it means, my child. I think she will do naught until Clifford comes, and perhaps he will be better of judgment than she."

"I am so glad," said Peggy again, and much relieved resumed her neglected ironing.

The days pa.s.sed. March glided into April, but the soft sweet days of spring brought no letter from Clifford. If the parole had been given Harriet did not know of it. She fumed and fretted under the waiting.

"Why do I not hear from him?" she cried one morning. "It hath been a month since I wrote, and it doth not take half so long to hear from Virginia. I do wish that either I would hear from Clifford, or that Mr.

Reed would let me know anent the parole."

"Thee is like to get one of thy wishes, for here comes Mr. Reed now,"

said Peggy who was standing by the front window of the living-room.

"Let me go to the door, madam my cousin," exclaimed Harriet as Mrs. Owen started to answer the knocker.

"Very well, Harriet," a.s.sented the matron with a smile.

But both Peggy and her mother were startled to hear Mr. Reed say gravely, in answer to Harriet's eager questioning:

"Nay; 'tis not about the parole I am come, Mistress Harriet, but anent a more serious matter."

"And what, sir, could be more serious than my brother's release?" came Harriet's clear voice.

"A charge against you, mistress, would be much more serious," was the reply.

"Of what do you accuse me, sir?" was the girl's haughty query.

"I accuse you of nothing, but I insist upon truthful answers to some questions. For the sake of these cousins with whom you are staying I entreat you to reply with truth, and nothing but truth."

"Come, Peggy," cried Mrs. Owen rising. "We will see what this means."

CHAPTER VIII-HOSPITALITY BETRAYED

"For right is right, since G.o.d is G.o.d; And right the day must win; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin."

-"The Right Must Win,"