“As though thee did not know,” cried Betty incredulously. “Had I spent as much time with both armies as thee and Peggy have there would be naught about anything military that I did not know. But, for fear that the Select Corps is the one thing lacking in thy knowledge of camp, I will tell thee that its members are taken from the whole army for the active part of a campaign. The Select Corps is always in advance of the main army, and has the right to make the first attack on the enemy. ’Tis of vast distinction to be of it, and Robert must have proved himself valorous else he would not have been honored by being placed in it.”
“But ’tis a position of danger as well as honor, Betty,” remarked Peggy.
“If Mr. Washington does no more fighting than he hath done for the past few years your Robert Dale will be in no danger,” observed Harriet, who was certainly in a bad mood for the day.
“Oh, as to that,” retorted Betty airily, “we manage to get in a victory often enough to keep up our spirits. Really, Harriet, I do wish thee could meet Robert.”
“And I wish that you both could meet my brother, Clifford,” cried Harriet. “Why, none of the youths in the rebel camp at Middlebrook could compare with him in looks. He is so handsome, and noble, and brave. Oh, I do wish that I could see him!” she ended, a pathetic quaver coming into her voice.
“Thee has not seen him since thee came to America, has thee?” asked Betty. Peggy, whose gentle heart was touched by the feeling her cousin exhibited, forgot how trying she had been, and pressed her hand tenderly.
“No, Betty. He left home soon after father came to join General Gage in Boston. When we were in New York City father had Sir Henry Clinton to go over the rosters of the different regiments to see if we could locate him, but we could find no trace of him. I did not mind so much until since I have been ill, but now I want to see him so much.”
“Does he look like Cousin William, Harriet?” asked Peggy.
“No; he is more like your father than mine. Father says that Cousin David is like my grandfather, and Clifford is the living representative of the picture of grandfather.”
“If he is like father he must be all that thee claims for him,” spoke Peggy warmly. “I should dearly like to see him, Harriet, and perhaps thee will hear of him soon. If he is in this country anywhere with the British army thee will surely hear of him in time. Don’t grieve.”