“Well, does thee know why she spoke to the soldier?” asked her mother quietly.
“Mother!” Peggy sat bolt upright in the chair, and turned a reproachful glance upon the lady. “Thee too? Why, Harriet told me but yesterday that she was becoming more and more of the opinion that the colonists were right in rebelling against the king. And is she not beautiful, mother?”
“Thou art quite carried away with her, Peggy,” observed Mrs. Owen thoughtfully. “Thou and thy father likewise. As thee says, Harriet’s manner to us is quite different to that which her father used. But William, whatever his faults, was an open enemy for the most part, and I like open enemies best. I cannot believe that an English girl would so soon change her convictions regarding us.”
“Mother,” cried Peggy in open-eyed amaze, “I never knew thee to be suspicious of any one before. Thou hast been talking with John. What hath come to thee?”
“I have said no word concerning the matter to John; nor will I, Peggy. ’Tis not so much suspicion as caution. But now I heard her ask thy father if there were but the three bridges across the Raritan, and if ’twere not fordable. Why should she wish to know such things?”
“Did thee ask father about it, mother?”
“Yes.”
“And what said he?”
“He feared that because of William’s actions I might be prejudiced against her. He thought it quite natural for her to take an interest in military affairs, and said that she asked no more questions concerning them than thou didst. Beside, he said, she was such a child that no possible harm could come of it.”
“Belike it is because of Cousin William that thee does not feel easy, mother,” said Peggy much relieved.