“Oh, Harriet,” came from Peggy reproachfully, but John Drayton answered with a puzzled look:
“I shall most certainly wear the garment if you give it to me, mistress, and feel highly complimented in so doing.”
“I will hold you to your word, sir,” cried Harriet. With that she ran out of the room but soon returned with the garment in question. “There!” she said holding it up so that he could read the embroidered inscription. “See to what you have pledged yourself, John Drayton.”
A twinkle came into his eyes, but he took the shirt from her, holding it tightly as he said:
“I shall abide by my word. And what think you the British would say if they saw what is here embroidered? This, mistress: ‘That ’tis small wonder the rebels are successful when even our own women help to keep them in supplies.’”
“Oh, give it back,” she exclaimed in consternation. “I did not think of that.”
“Nay; a bargain is a bargain.” Drayton folded up the shirt with a decided gesture. “You were trying to put up a ‘take in’ on me, but it hath redounded on yourself. Stand by your word, mistress.”
“He hath thee, Harriet,” cried Peggy laughing.
“I don’t care,” answered Harriet tossing her head. “’Tis across the shoulders, and if ever I hear of its being seen I shall know that he turned his back to the foe.”
“Then you have heard the last of it, for that I will never do,” said the lad solemnly.