The youth rose at her cry. Over his face poured a flood of color. Incredulity struggled with joy, and was succeeded by a strange expression. His face grew stern, and his brows knit together in a heavy frown. He folded his arms across his breast as his sister approached, and made no motion to embrace her. Peggy was nonplussed at the change. What did it mean! He had been so anxious for her coming, and so uneasy about her. She could not understand it. Harriet too seemed astonished at this strange reception.
“One moment,” he said, and Peggy shivered at the coldness of his tones, “do you come, my sister, as a loyal Englishwoman, or as a rebel?”
“Loyal?” questioned Harriet wonderingly. “Why, of course I’m loyal. What else could I be?”
“And that Yankee captain? The one to whom you gave that shirt?”
“The Yankee captain?” A puzzled look flashed across Harriet’s face. “Oh! do you mean John Drayton? Well, what about him?”
“Is he not favored by you?” queried Clifford, a light beginning to glow on his countenance.
“Favored by me? John Drayton!” Harriet’s lip curled in disdain. “What nonsense is this, Cliff? I dislike John Drayton extremely. Didn’t Peggy tell you?”
“Then come,” he said opening his arms.
“You silly boy,” cried Harriet embracing him. “I am minded not to kiss you at all. What put such absurd notions in your head? How well you look! Not nearly so pale as Peggy is. One would think she was the invalid. Come, Peggy! ’Tis fine here under the trees. Sit down while you both hear about the gayeties of New York. And the war news! Oh, I have so much to tell. Sir Henry says the game is up with the colonies this summer. But oh, Cliff——”
“Have you been in New York?” he interrupted.