“Where would you go, if you did leave?” Lettice asked.
“Somewhere out of town; but as you say, no doubt we are as safe here as anywhere we might hit upon. It doesn’t seem a very fitting time to be arranging flowers, Lettice. You’d better be scraping lint; there probably will be need of it.”
“But the flowers don’t stop blooming, battles or no battles,” Lettice returned. Yet she bore her bowl of China asters indoors, and, taking a roll of linen from her aunt’s hand, she sat down to scrape lint.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Star-Spangled Banner.
From time to time during the day came news of a possible engagement. Frigates, bomb-ketches, and small vessels were reported to be ranging themselves in position to cannonade the fort and the town. Off North Point lay the ships of the line. In the night began the debarkation of the British, and by noon the next day a battle was imminent. It was an anxious time for those within the town, whose brothers, husbands, sons, or lovers had gone out to meet the enemy. Aunt Martha religiously refrained from idleness, and vigorously scraped her lint when she was doing nothing else. Lettice and Betty helped her by fits and starts. “But I cannot keep my mind on anything,” said Lettice. “I am so nervous, so anxious.”
“You’d much better be occupied,” returned her aunt, patting a soft pile of her linen scrapings. But Lettice did not respond; she went to the window and looked out. Few persons were to be seen on the street. It was raining, and she wondered how those on their camp ground were faring.
All day Sunday there came reports of the further movements of the British, who had by this time landed their troops at North Point; and what might be next expected no one knew, though all feared ill news. “I shall not stay at home from church,” Aunt Martha declared, “for if ever there was a time when one should attend to her religious duties, it is to-day. You will come with me, Lettice?”
“I suppose I might as well, for I shall be just as miserable if I stay at home, and I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing I am doing the right thing by going.”
“That is not the right spirit,” Aunt Martha objected. “It should be a privilege, and I think you should feel it so.”