"I was thinking of our poor fellows and the sick and wounded to-night, and resolved that when they return to the city they shall have a greater welcome than this. And that rampant old Tory Ralph Jeffries, whom I should not have asked but for his daughter's sake, insisted upon playing when he was half fuddled. He is shrewd enough when sober, but to-night I won his guineas. And now I tell thee, Janice, what I will do. These new people are ready enough with their play and have plenty of money. Whatever I win I shall lay aside for our poor fellows."
"That is a fine scheme," and Janice Kent laughed.
"We must get out to the farm some day and see if we cannot send provisions before these British troops lay hands on it. For it will take a great deal to feed eighteen thousand men, and I doubt if they suffer at any time from honest scruples."
"It was a grand time. There are many handsome young men among them. But I think that Major André bears off the palm. There is music in his laugh, and his handsome face is enough to turn a girl's head. They are to act a play, I believe. Miss Becky Franks was talking of it to the Shippens."
Madam Wetherill sighed a little.
Already the quiet streets of the town had taken on a new aspect. There were fiddling and singing in many of the decorous old taverns. Men were shouting Tory broadsides of ridiculous verse; selling places for the races, when Tarleton was to ride, as that was sure to draw crowds, or hawking tickets for plays. Women were careful about going in the streets unattended, and cavaliers became general.
A few days later Captain Nevitt came in to escort the ladies out to Cherry Farm, as, somehow, many duties and engagements had intervened since his arrival until, as he admitted, he was quite ashamed of the lack of respect due his uncle. It was a bright, clear winter day, with a sky of wonderful blue, against which the distant trees stood out distinctly, the hemlocks looking almost black against it. The soldiers' barracks stretched out, giving a strange appearance to the once peaceful city. Groups of men were lounging idly about, and confusion seemed to predominate. But they soon left the city behind them, and rode along the Schuylkill, where the wintry landscape, leafless trees, and denuded cornfields met their glance, dreary now, but to be ruinous by and by.
Primrose had a pony of her own and rode beside her aunt, with her brother as her guard, while Lieutenant Vane was her aunt's escort. Primrose wore a blue cloth coat and skirt, trimmed with fur, and her white beaver hat was tied under her chin. Many women used a thin, silken sort of mask to protect their complexion from wind and dust, but Madam Wetherill had discarded it and did not always insist upon Primrose wearing one.
Many of the beautiful houses destroyed later on were standing now. A few had been taken as outposts for the army, others looked lonely enough closed for the season, as it had not been considered prudent to leave even the farmer in charge, after the battle of Germantown.
"Primrose does credit to someone's training," Captain Nevitt remarked. "Is it a long ride?"