"I have a presentiment I shall never see my pretty darling again. Primrose, I love thee more than thou canst imagine. I would that I had thee and that we two were going to England out of this terrible strife. Farewell.
"Thine own dear brother,
"Phil."
Primrose ran weeping to her aunt and gave her the long epistle. Madam Wetherill tried to comfort her, and presently she dried her tears a little.
"We can hardly call him a traitor,—Gilbert Vane, I mean,—for he has not really betrayed his country, but changed his mind. And I think it very brave of him when he might go to England and live in luxury," said Primrose in a broken voice.
"Thou art quick to see the heroic side. Of course, if he should be taken prisoner, he would be put to death without mercy."
"But he does not sell his country!" with emphasis. "Oh, poor, dear Phil! My heart aches for him. And yet, if the British soldiers begin to see the doubtfulness of a final conquest, I think there must be hope. But what can I say to Philemon? I seem destined to be always divided in opposite directions."
"That is very true," and Madam Wetherill smiled rather sadly. For it seemed hard indeed that brother and sister should have such opposing interests. Many a girl would have been won at once by the proffer of pleasure.
But Primrose did not have very long to consider. Another note came from New York. Tired of inaction, Philemon Nevitt had asked that some more stirring duty should be allotted to him, and he was transferred to another body of troops, who were watching the Americans and harassing them in the vicinity of Morristown. It was said deserters from the British army had transferred their allegiance, and Colonel Nevitt determined to put a stop to this, and capture some of them to make an example the soldiers would dread in future.
"When he writes like this I hate him!" and Primrose stamped her dainty foot upon the floor, while her eyes flashed with curious steely gleams that seemed to have black points. "It does not seem as if the same blood could run in our veins, but then he hath none of my own dear mother's sweetness. If he were related to her my heart would break. And I think he must have some of the characteristics of uncle James, who keeps his hard heart against Cousin Andrew. Was my father of that stamp, dear madam?"
"He had a much broader life. He was brought into contact with various people, and possessed a certain suavity that one finds in many of the old families here in town. Good Mr. Penn did not insist that men should be all of one mind."