FOR NATIVE LAND AND LOYALTY.
They all made so light of the occurrence that a note of apology from Mr. Wharton settled the matter. Captain Nevitt felt in his cooler moments that he had been a little to blame, also hasty and unreasonable. And when, a few evenings after, he met pretty and vivacious Polly Wharton and danced with her, he was very glad the matter had gone no farther.
Primrose was soon well again, but Madam Wetherill would not consent to her going out on the river among the gay crowd, though she felt it a great deprivation. There were two or three quiet spots on the creeks where children could go without harm, and Patty used to take her when Phil was engaged, though Lieutenant Vane was always inquiring if he could not accompany them. He seemed younger and more boyish than the captain, and proved quite delightful to the groups of children, though he admitted laughingly that he found a great many rebels among them.
And so the days went on, one and another indignant over the "rollicking winter" as Mr. Allen termed it, and others storming at General Howe for the wanton destruction everywhere visible. Groves of trees were cut down for firewood, gardens despoiled, and some of the houses taken possession of by the troops were cut and hacked with insulting boasts, and really ruined. Others, Continentals confessedly, railed at Washington for his inaction and supineness.
Howe had planned one surprise and possible capture of the troops, but heroic Lydia Darragh, having overheard the plot, walked to Washington's camp while it was at Whitemarsh, and forewarned them. Finding the rebels prepared with a warm welcome the British retraced their steps. There were small skirmishes outside the lines, and once the impetuous Lafayette advanced, hoping to surprise the enemy, but nothing came of this. Baron Steuben was training the Continentals, as many of them were raw recruits, but, used to hunting as they were, most of the young men had a quick eye and correct aim.
But stories crept in concerning their hardships and sufferings. Every avenue was closely watched that no supplies should be sent directly from the city, but more than once keen wit evaded them. There were passes for the farmers to come in on market days, and many were glad even to supply their enemies for British gold. James Henry thought this no sin, and was given a pass for his son and nephew. Penn had imbibed many of his uncle's beliefs, and took home rather rose-colored accounts of the prosperity of the city. He kept, too, a watchful eye over Andrew, who was more than half suspected of being quite as willing to deal with the rebels, and Madam Wetherill's was considered a rather tempting and unsafe place for sober-going Friends.
But one day he came alone, and made his way to Arch Street, leaving his empty wagon at a nearby tavern that he knew he could trust.
"It is thy cousin," whispered Madam Wetherill, who had some callers. "Take him upstairs in Patty's sewing room."
Primrose ran out with delight in her eyes, but she had grown wise, and, instead of a cry of joy, placed her finger archly on her lips and motioned him through the hall.
"I saw a glimpse of a red coat," he said in a low tone. "I have no desire to run into a hornets' nest. Oh, Primrose, thou hast grown taller since the day thou wert at the farm. Thou wilt soon be a young lady. And the sweetness of childhood will be ended."