And Sally was ashamed to mourn or sigh over her Dream Prince, except so far down in her heart that even her own inner Fairy could scarcely know it.
CHAPTER XIV.
HOME AGAIN
As the next fall came on, there were clouds and a coming tempest in the air. British soldiers in gay uniforms were seen about the roads, and Mistress Kent's dame school did not open as usual.
The parents of young children did not like to send them out every day, even with a servant to look after them. The blacks were easily alarmed and might not prove faithful.
The tobacco was cut and stored in sheds, but when it would be shipped was uncertain. And Sir Percival Grandison was anxious because the Belle Virgeen did not come sailing back on time.
The Fairy Prince was nearing home at last, and a tall, shy maid in her teens was glad that he was on the way.
Sally would soon be fourteen, and it was doubtful if another so young a maiden in all Williamsburg, even the well-taught daughters of the rich planters, knew more or as much of that which comes through books, as did the young maid, Sally Dukeen.
She had learned as if by magic, and kept learning every day. And by paying attention to scraps of conversation that floated to her ears, and getting hold of a newspaper now and then, she knew all about the conflict or struggle that was almost on between what men had fondly called "the mother country" and the American colonies.
And now the Fairy Prince at nineteen was on his way home midst all the trouble and din. Would he fight? He was under age, but Sally had heard him speak of such manly things as "duty" and "putting down wrong and holding up the right."