But all of her resentment vanished the next morning as a hay cart drew up before the door under escort of a guard. There were a few women in the cart, and a number of people, men and boys mostly, had collected to view the departure.
“Oh, Harriet,” she sobbed putting her arms about her, “since thee must go I wish the mode was different.”
For an instant Harriet’s lips quivered. She grew very pale and clung to Peggy convulsively. It was only for an instant, however, that she displayed any emotion.
“Oh, well,” she said with a toss of her head. “The mode is well enough, I dare say, since ’twill convey me to New York. And Fleetwood is to go with one of the men.”
But Peggy knew that in spite of her brave front the girl was humiliated at the manner of her departure. Without a glance at the surrounding crowd of curious ones Harriet took her place in the cart, and settled herself comfortably.
“If a letter should come from Clifford, madam my cousin,” she said leaning forward to speak to Mrs. Owen, “I pray you to read it. Then write him in answer what hath befallen me. Tell him I will spare no effort to have him join me soon in New York. And so farewell!”
She smiled brightly at them, and waved her hand repeatedly as the cart drove off. Peggy and her mother stood watching it as long as it was in sight.
“Oh, mother, I am so tired of it all,” said the girl, with tears. “Will nothing ever be right any more? Will this long war and all its complications never be over with? I am so weary, mother.”
“Give not way to such feelings, Peggy,” said her mother, drawing her into the house. “It doth seem dark at times, and this happening is in truth a sad ending to Harriet’s stay with us. But everything will come right in time. Do not doubt it. Have faith. All will be well some time.”