“I see,” she said. Presently she threw her head back and gave way to a peal of musical laughter. “There is but one thing to do, Cousin David,” she cried. “And that is to become a patriot myself.”
CHAPTER XVI—THE TWO WARNINGS
| “Though your prognostics run too fast, They must be verified at last.” —Swift. |
“And here is some one to see thee, Peggy,” said Mrs. Owen a week later, coming into the little chamber under the eaves which the two maidens occupied in common. “Bring thy cousin and come down.”
“Is it John, mother?” asked Peggy, letting her tambour frame fall to the floor. “I wondered why we did not see him.”
“Yes, ’tis John, Peggy, though he is called Ensign Drayton here. Perhaps ’twould be as well for us to term him so, too.”
“Come, Harriet,” called Peggy rising. “Let us run down. ’Tis our first caller.”
“And being a soldier let us prepare for him,” said the English girl, reaching for a box. “What would we females be without powder? ’Tis as necessary to us as to a soldier, for ’tis as priming to our looks as ’tis to a gun. There! will I do, Peggy?”
“Thee is beautiful, my cousin,” replied Peggy with warm admiration. “Thee does not need powder nor anything else to set off thy looks.”
“Oh, well,” laughed the maiden, plainly gratified by her cousin’s remark, “’tis as well to be in the mode when one can. And I wish to do you honor, my cousin.”