“Imagine waiting on a wounded soldier,” followed up Terry.
“And imagine the danger she was in,” concluded Sim.
Granny, gratified that the story of her famous relative should gain so much honor through her own simple telling, finally continued.
“When the British took possession of the house Patience declared the wounded man was a raving lunatic, and so she kept him out of harm’s way. Until spring she hid him successfully, and by that time the soldier and the maid had fallen in love.”
The girls waited while Granny shook her head sorrowfully.
“But he contracted pneumonia and died,” she murmured. “Patience never married but gave herself up to her country’s cause and became a nurse for wounded soldiers. That was her candle holder; she used it to light her way along a secret passage from the big house to this one.”
Granny indicated a pewter candlestick on the mantel between two plates. Their eyes lingered on it lovingly. A moment later Granny went on with her story.
“I have an old letter telling about it, but when the place was remodeled the passage must have been walled up. Dick and Betty have never been able to find any trace of it. Although, I dare say, it will come to light when the house is torn down.” Granny finished her recital and sat looking straight before her, her bright eyes dimmed with tears. She sighed and attempted a little smile.
Arden’s heart skipped a beat, and a lump rose in her throat.
“Oh, it’s monstrous to think that dear old place should come down!” she exclaimed bitterly. “Can’t something be done to save it? Is there no way of buying it in?”