“Very harsh music, methinks,” smiled the youth.
“But preferable to the croaking frogs and screeching owls of farm life,” said the girl quickly. “If thee had been away for a year I make no doubt but that thee would be as glad to return to this dear city as I am.”
“I make no doubt of it too,” he agreed.
“Just think,” went on Peggy. “I have not seen either Sally or Betty since the Fourth of July. Had it not been for thee I would know naught of what hath occurred since then. Thou hast been very kind to us, Robert.”
“It hath been a pleasure,” returned he gravely. “I think you cannot know what a relief it is to get away from the incessant round of gaiety with which the city seems beset. I weary of it, and long to be in the field.”
“I hope that thee will not go just as we have returned to town,” remarked the maiden. “Mother and I will welcome the chance to return some of thy favors.”
“Don’t, Peggy,” exclaimed the lad coloring. “I like not for you to speak of requiting favors as though you and your mother owed aught to me. It hath been a pleasure, as I have said.”
“Thee is too modest, Robert. None the less we owe thee much, even though thee does try to deny it. How, sir, could we have come to the city without thy escort? With father away thee knows that ’twould have been impossible for mother and me to have managed the wagons. And——But oh, Robert! Aren’t the shops opened yet? So many seemed to be closed.”
“Not all are open, Peggy. Everything is fast becoming as ’twas before the coming of the British, but it will take some time to restore matters to a normal condition. ’Tis but September, and they only left in June.”
“I know,” observed she thoughtfully, “that ’twill be indeed long before we are as we were before their coming. An enemy makes sad havoc, does it not?”