The tory Jameson still remained under an unburned roof, despite the mutterings against him; and he continued to entertain the redcoats with lavish hospitality.
Several times, during trips to and from the Knollys house, Dorothy, escorted by Hugh or her brother—sometimes by both—or by old Leet, had encountered the young officer. But nothing more than a bow and smile had passed between them since the morning he had turned so haughtily from her father's presence.
It was about the middle of the month, and the shutters of all the windows were opened wide to let in the flood of autumn sunshine as the family sat at breakfast; and the silver service in front of Aunt Lettice glinted like little winking eyes where it caught the golden flood.
Her delicate white hands had poured out the sweetened hot milk and water which she and 'Bitha drank in lieu of tea, while her brother-in-law, busy with looking over a copy of the "Salem Gazette" brought by his son the night before, was letting his coffee cool.
Jack himself, after a hastily despatched breakfast, had already gone into the town, where he had matters of importance to look after, not the least of them being to dine at the Hortons' with Mary and her father; and he would not return until late in the evening.
Dorothy had little to say, seeming to be busy with her own thoughts; but she could not help smiling as little 'Bitha murmured softly, "Oh, grandame, I am all full of glory by now, for I caught a lot of sunshine on my spoon and swallowed it."
"And you'll be full of a mess, child, if you stir your porridge about in such reckless fashion," said Aunt Lettice, smiling as her eyes met Dorothy's.
"Dot," her father now asked suddenly, lifting his eyes from the paper, "when did you last see old Ruth Lecrow?"
Dorothy started, and her big eyes turned to him with a troubled look as she answered, "It is all of a month since I saw her."
The girl's conscience smote her, as never before had she neglected for so long a time to go and see the faithful carer of her own motherless infancy, or else send needful provision for her impoverished old age.