Then she went down the broad staircase in stately dignity. The wide door space made her visible to the young man, who had been examining the Chinese pagoda standing on a table in the corner.
"I must beg your pardon for coming unceremoniously upon you," he began in a well-trained voice that showed his breeding. "I reached the city only yesterday after a variety of adventures, and as it would have taken a long epistle to explain my history, I resolved to come in person. There was a connection of yours who married a Mr. Philemon Henry. I bethink me that the Quakers disapprove of any title beyond mere names," and he smiled.
"Yes," the lady answered gravely, eying the young man with a peculiar impression of having seen him before. "I knew Friend Henry very well."
"And you have quite forgotten me? I hoped there would be some resemblance. I have been in this house as a little lad with my stepmother——"
"It is not—oh, yes! it must be Philemon Henry's son!"
"That was my father, truly. I had thought some day to come over, when I heard there was a little girl still living, my half-sister. And I remember I was very much in love with my pretty, winsome stepmother. I took it rather hard that I should be sent to England. And, as events turned out, I might have been as well off here in the city of my birth."
"Pray be seated," rejoined Madam Wetherill. "This is singular indeed."
"Allow me to present to you my friend, Lieutenant Vane, who is in General Howe's army, where I expect soon to have a position myself. I hope, madam, you are not too bitter against us?"
"There will be time to discuss that later on," she answered in a guarded tone. "Yet I am almost surprised to find thee in arms against thy father's country."
"I suppose he would have been a peace man. I have memories of a tall, rather austere person, yet of great kindliness, but it was the pretty, playful stepmother that made the most vivid impression. And now tell me of the little girl. Where is she?"