“Oh, Ruth, you are just the one I want to see,” said Berinthia, as Miss Newville entered a few minutes later. “Just look at this! Colonel Hardman proposes to turn us out of doors, that he may take possession of our home.”
“Aren’t you going to protest?”
“I have protested.”
“Aren’t you going to do something?”
“What can I do?”
“We will see. General Howe is to dine with us this afternoon, and I have come to get you to help me entertain him and the others. We will ask him what he thinks of such arbitrary action on the part of his subordinate officer.”
“I will be there to hear what he has to say,” Berinthia said.
The hard times and the want of fresh provisions ruffled the temper of Phillis in the Newville kitchen. No longer could she baste a fat turkey roasting by the fire, or a joint of juicy beef, and yet the dinner she was preparing for his excellency General Howe, and Mr. Newville’s other guests, was very appetizing,—oysters raw and fried, clam soup, broiled halibut, fresh mackerel, corned beef and pork, plum-pudding and pie.
Lord William Howe, commander-in-chief of his majesty’s forces in America, was a gentleman, polite, affable, who delighted to make himself agreeable to beautiful ladies. At Bunker Hill he had shown the army that he could be brave on the battlefield. The other guests were Brigadier-General Timothy Ruggles, appointed commander of the militia, loyal to the king, and Captain John Coffin of his staff. General Howe solicited the honor of escorting Miss Newville to the dinner-table; Captain Coffin, possibly preferring the society of the girl with whom he often had romped to that of the mother, offered his arm to Berinthia, leaving to General Ruggles the honor of escorting the hostess.
“The state of the times,” said Mr. Newville, “does not enable me to provide an elaborate repast, but Phillis has done her best with what she had.”