It ended by their going. Mrs. Stuart and Sally, who were hardly Whig or Tory, promised to keep watch of them. And though Miss Auchmuty had been crowned Queen of Beauty at the tournament, and there were the fair Shippen women and the Chews, men paused to look at the sweet, golden-haired child who was so simply gowned that her dress did not detract from her beauty. And long afterward, when she was an old lady, she could recount the famous scene that ended, as one might say, the British possession of Philadelphia. For even as they danced amid the gleaming lights and fragrant flowers, a premonition of what was to come, although unexpected, and a bloodless victory, occurred. The redoubts were sharply attacked by a daring body of rebels, but so well protected that surprise was not possible.
Sir Henry Clinton arrived and the accomplished André was made his adjutant general. Then came the news that a French fleet would sail up the Delaware. Sir Henry prepared to leave at once, and the city was shaken with both joy and alarm. At midnight, on the 18th of June, the British stole away silently, to the great surprise of the inhabitants, who knew Washington was preparing to descend upon them and feared a bloody battle, for now the Continentals were well equipped, well drilled, and strong in numbers.
Primrose sat poring over a book of verse. For a wonder there was no one in to play cards. Madam Wetherill had been a little indisposed for several days.
"Do go to bed, child," she said rather sharply. "Thou wilt turn into a book next."
"I hope it will have a new, bright cover and not this musty, old one."
"I dare say, Miss Vanity."
"Good-night," and she made her pretty courtesy. Then she stood still at the quick knock. Barely was the door opened when Captain Nevitt rushed in and caught her to his heart.
"Little Primrose, darling Primrose, for I have learned to love thee dearly, I have come to say good-by. We are ordered to New York and leave at once. When I shall see thee again I cannot tell, but I may send, and will write thee letters and letters. Hast thou one kiss that I may take with me, holding all the sweetness of generous accord?"
"Oh, do not go! do not go! I have teased thee often! I have tried not to love thee, but, after all——" And she was sobbing in his arms.
"It is a soldier's duty, dear. Wish me well, and I will take it as a guerdon."