Andrew Henry came in regularly to market. His father had not regained his full strength, and his leg was rather untrustworthy in slippery weather. Now and then he paused at some tavern, as they were considered respectable meeting places, to hear the discussions, for he was much perturbed in these days. He was made a welcome guest at Madam Wetherill's also, and met from time to time some notable person, and became much interested in Mr. Benjamin Franklin.
Very little had been said about Primrose at home. Rachel was growing into daughterhood, and though Lois Henry would have denied the slightest suggestion of matchmaking, she saw with no disfavor that Rachel was much drawn toward Andrew.
When spring opened grandmother failed rapidly and took to her bed a great part of the time, so that it was necessary to bring her downstairs for convenience' sake. It would be rather troublesome to have a discordant element, and the Henrys felt that Primrose was more firmly established in her willful ways, no doubt, and they did not care for a continual struggle like that which had begun and ended so disastrously the preceding summer.
The spirit of revolt had gained ground in all the Colonies; still it had been hard work to persuade them to act together. But, in May, Congress passed resolutions leading to the better equipment of the Colonies for the struggle. At dinners—the only sources of amusement now—the King's health was no longer drunk, but "The free and independent States of America" were toasted with acclaim. With the old Assembly the political power of the Friends waned, and Philadelphia was taking upon herself a great and serious change. If Bunker Hill had electrified the country, the Declaration of Independence, read to the few people who gathered to hear it at the State House, was to be the imperishable crown of the city, although it was not signed until August.
The King's arms were taken down and burned, the church bells rang, and the young people caught the enthusiasm from a few bonfires on the square and lighted them elsewhere, little thinking they were kindling a flame in men's souls that was to be handed down to posterity for ages. A very small beginning then, but among the hearers was Andrew Henry, who wondered mightily at the boldness of such a step, though the glory of it thrilled every pulse, and he was amazed at the fighting blood within him.
At the yearly meeting he and his father had attended, the Friends had counseled against open rebellion and shown each other the futility of such a step. All acts of violence and bloodshed were deprecated, and Lexington and Concord pronounced a useless sacrifice, and displeasing to God. But in the little knots that had gathered afterward there had been more than one low, dissentient voice concerning a man's duty, and the impossibility of a government so far away knowing what was best for the Colonies.
He was to meet Madam Wetherill, who had come in to her city home on some business.
"I am glad thy father agrees about Primrose," she began in her cordial tone, that invariably charmed the young Quaker. "Her attire, too, had an appropriate aspect in his eyes, as it gave her a fine dignity. He was secretly pleased that she was not of his persuasion. The changes are hard on the child even if all other matters were in accord. I think she will never be of her father's faith, but she is sweet and attractive and good at heart. I am afraid we sometimes lay too much stress on outward appearances. Is thy mother well this summer?"
"She is not as strong as she was, and we should not know how to manage without my cousin Rachel. Poor grandmother is nearing the close of her earthly pilgrimage. She may go at any time. Dr. Reed hath given us notice, and death is a sad and awesome matter even for little ones. So mother said she would rather have no added cares, though she would not shirk any duty."
"Set her heart quite at rest. Tell her for me that the duties of God's sending are first. I have been consulting the other trustees, and they think the child is as well with me."