“Thank you,” he returned, his pleasure at her naive admiration being very apparent. Already there had been detractions whispered against his administration of the city, and the genuine appreciation of this little maid for his military exploits was soothing to him. “I know not how our talk hath become so serious,” he said, “but I am a poor host to permit it. ’Tis not befitting a scene of pleasure. Wilt take tea with me, Miss Peggy?”
Peggy looked up quickly, thinking she had not heard aright. What! she, a simple young girl, to be taken to tea by so great a general! Mr. Arnold stood courteously awaiting her assent, and realizing that he had indeed bestowed the honor upon her, she arose, swept a profound curtsey, and murmured an almost inaudible acceptance.
There were little gasps of surprise from Sally and Betty, as she swept by them, but pride had succeeded to Peggy’s confusion, and she did not turn her head. Assured that never again would she be filled with such felicity Peggy held her head high, and walked proudly down the great drawing-room by Benedict Arnold’s side.
’Twas customary in Philadelphia for the mistress of a household to disperse tea to guests, but the general having no wife pressed his military attachés into this duty. So overwhelmed was Peggy with the honor conferred upon her that she did not notice that her cup was filled again and again by the obliging servitor. She was recalled to herself, however, by an audible aside from Sally:
“And hath thy general plenty of Bohea in the house, Robert? ’Tis to be hoped so, else there will be none for the rest of us. That is Peggy’s sixth cup, is it not?”
“Oh, dear!” gasped Peggy flushing scarlet, and hastily placing her spoon across the top of her cup, for this was the proper mode of procedure when one had been served sufficiently. “I did not know, I did not think—in fact, the tea was most excellent, and did beguile me. Nay,” she broke off looking at him bravely. “’Twas because I was so beset with pride to think that it was thou who served me that I forgot my manners. In truth, the incident is so notable that I shall never forget it.”
“Now, by my life, you should drink all there is for that speech though no one else were served,” declared he laughing. “What! No more? Then we will see to ’t that your friend hath cause for no further complaint. Do you read, Miss Peggy?”
From a small spindle-legged table that stood near, he selected a book from several which lay on its polished surface, and handed it to her.
“Pleasure me by accepting this,” he said. “’Tis Brooke’s ‘Lady Juliet Grenville.’ Most young ladies like it, and it hath more endurance than a cup of tea.”
“Oh, thank thee! Thank thee!” cried she delightedly. “I have heard much of the tale, and have longed to read it. I shall truly treasure it.”