“I often wished for her,” declared Peggy, smiling. “Poor Fairfax would mantle did a girl but speak to him. And yet he was so brave!”
“He was indeed,” assented the youth with warm admiration. “Sally hath just read where he went to warn the Legislature of Virginia of Tarleton’s coming despite the fact that he was ill. But, Peggy, we could not help but laugh over what he said to you. Read his words, Sally.”
“‘I said,’” read Sally picking up the book again, “‘Friend Fairfax, thee always seems so afraid of us females, yet thee can do this, or aught else that is for thy country. Why is it?’ And he replied:
“‘To defend the country from the invader, to do anything that can be done to thwart the enemy’s designs, is man’s duty. But to face a battery of bright eyes requires courage, Mistress Peggy. And that I have not.’”
“Wasn’t that fine?” cried Betty with animation. “I adore bravery and shyness combined. Methinks ’twould be delightsome to be the woman who could teach him how to face such a battery. Thee didn’t live up to thy opportunity, Peggy. It was thy duty to cure such a fine fellow of bashfulness. It was thy duty, I say. Would I could take him in hand.”
“Would that thee might, Betty,” answered Peggy. “But I fear thee would have thy hands full.”
“I wonder if thee has heard the latest concerning Betty’s doings,” broke in Sally. “Mr. Deering told me of it. Betty was dancing a measure with Colonel Middleton at the last Assembly when Mr. Deering came up to her and said:
“‘I see that you are dancing with a man of war, Miss Betty.’
“‘Yes, sir,’ says Betty, ‘but I think a tender would be preferable.’”
“Oh, Betty! Betty!” gasped Peggy when the merriment that greeted this had subsided. “How did thee dare?”