“About whom?” Drayton swung about with precipitation.
“About Sally and my cousin, Clifford. I want to tell thee how a message from her cheered his dark hours; I want to tell thee how she helped Harriet; and I want to tell thee, most of all, John, what I am hoping will happen if Clifford is sent to Philadelphia. Dear Sally!”
“Dear Sally!” he echoed fervently, settling his hat in its accustomed place with the jaunty gesture that she loved. “Dear, dear Sally,” he added with growing enthusiasm as he met her laughing eyes. “I shall like to hear about Sally. Tell me, Peggy.”
It was three months later. Congress had recognized the altered sentiments of the country regarding the case of retaliation, and Clifford was set unconditionally at liberty. England had advised that hostilities be suspended, so that—while the two armies retained their respective positions, one in New York, the other in the Highlands—it was only as a precautionary measure. The prospects for peace were at last assuming reality. There were yet many months to come before the terms would be agreed upon, and the treaty signed; but American Independence was not only achieved, but recognized at last by England.
It was a bright October day. Peggy sat with her mother in the sitting-room of the dwelling in Chestnut Street. The air was just chill enough to warrant a fire, and the two were deep in conversation before its pleasant warmth. The door opened hastily, and Harriet, looking marvelously beautiful in a new riding habit, stood on the threshold.
“I am going for a ride with Robert, madam my cousin,” she said, and the rich color flooded her cheeks as she pronounced the young man’s name. “We may be a little late. You will not mind?”
“Nay, Harriet.” Mrs. Owen smiled at her fondly. “I hope that thy ride will be a pleasant one.”
“Mother,” spoke Peggy as Harriet closed the door, “how this terrible contagion of domesticity, as General Washington puts it, hath seized everybody! Here Betty hath married her Frenchman and gone to France; Clifford is to come for Sally before he sails for England; and now there is Robert and Harriet. What does thee think of them?”
“I am much pleased,” answered the lady. “It will be the making of Harriet. Robert is of a strong, true nature which will command her respect. He hath invested her with every noble quality, believing her to be as lovely in character as she is beautiful in person. Harriet likes to be so considered. Peggy, rather than fall below his ideal she will become all that his fancy paints her.”