In all the demonstration, however, Peggy was a secondary luminary.
“’Tis the more remarkable because thee is an English girl,” was David Owen’s comment when Harriet protested against so much attention being shown her. “And thee deserves it, my child. ’Twas a great thing for thee to do.”
“But Peggy found the note,” spoke Harriet with insistence. “I must have been miles away when she found it. Wasn’t I, Peggy?”
Peggy gave her a puzzled look. Why did she make such a point of not being present when the note was found, she asked herself.
“My daughter,” chided her father, “did thee not hear thy cousin’s question? Thou hast not answered her.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Peggy rousing herself. “What was it, Harriet? I was wondering about something.”
“’Twas naught,” spoke Harriet. “I only said I was not with you when the note was found.”
“No, thee was not with me,” answered Peggy, and something of her perplexity was visible in her manner.
On Friday morning, the day following the sortie by the enemy, Mrs. Owen entered the parlor where the two girls were for the moment sitting alone with Mr. Owen.
“Girls,” she said, “an aide hath just come from His Excellency with his compliments. He desires the pleasure of Misses Margaret and Harriet Owen’s company to dinner. You are to accompany the aide, who will wait for you to get ready, and will see that you are safely returned before night falls.”