In about half an hour Agnes, having finished her house duties, went to the door opening into the garden and called Harry and Maria. They turned toward the house when they heard her voice, and she remained in the open door to watch them come through the tall box-shrubs and the many-colored asters. And as she did so, Quentin Macpherson reached the front door—which also stood open—and perceiving Agnes, he did not knock, but waited for her to turn inward. Consequently he saw Harry and Maria, and did not fail to notice the terms of affectionate familiarity between them. The fire of jealousy was kindled in a moment; he strode forward to meet the company, and was received with the usual friendly welcome; for such a situation had often been spoken of as possible, and Agnes was not in the least disconcerted.
"My friend, Mr. Harry Deane, Captain Macpherson," she said, without hesitation, and the Captain received the introduction with his most military air. Then Agnes set herself to keep the conversation away from the war, but that was an impossible thing; every incident of life somehow or other touched it, and before she realized the fact, Harry was deprecating Tryon's outrages in Connecticut, and Macpherson defending them on the ground that "the towns destroyed had fitted out most of the privateers which had so seriously interfered with English commerce. Both the building of the ships and the destruction of the towns for building them are natural incidents of war," he said, and then pointedly, "perhaps you are a native of Connecticut?"
"No," answered Harry, "I am a native of New York."
"Ah! I have not met you before."
"I am a great deal away——" then receiving from Agnes a look of anxious warning, he thought it best to take his leave. Agnes rose and went to the door with him, and Maria wished Captain Macpherson anywhere but in her society; especially as he began to ask her questions she did not wish to answer.
"So Miss Bradley has a lover?" he said, looking pointedly at the couple as they left the room.
"I used to think so once," answered Maria.
"But not now?"
"But not now. Mr. Deane is an old friend, a playmate even."
"I suppose he is a King's man?"