"What a stanch little rebel it is," Joseph Devereux said laughingly; and Jack went on in a teasing way to 'Bitha, "I expect we shall all go to see 'Bitha married to a redcoat as soon as she is big enough."
"You will see no such thing, Cousin Jack," the child replied angrily. "I'd run away, so that no one could ever find me, before I'd do such a thing. Would not you, Cousin Dorothy?"
Dorothy did not answer, and 'Bitha repeated the question.
"Would I do what, 'Bitha?" Dorothy now asked, but indifferently, and as though with the object of quieting the child.
"Why, marry a redcoat?"
"Nonsense, 'Bitha,—don't let Jack tease you." And Dorothy turned away again to look off over the snow fields through which they were passing. But she wondered if the others noticed how oddly her voice sounded, and what a tremble there was in it.
The Horton house loomed up full of importance from amid its darker fellows, and warm lights twinkled out here and there where a parted curtain let them through to shine forth like welcoming smiles into the cold night.
Within there was much bustle and good-natured badinage, as the neighbors, bidden to the feast, assisted the people of the house,—playing the part of entertainer or caterer, hairdresser or maid, as the needs of the other guests demanded.
It was a simple, homely wedding, as was the custom of the day; and the festivities were enjoyed with all the more zest by reason of the relief they offered from the anxiety felt by all, on account of the disturbed condition of public affairs.
There were games—such as "Twirl the Trencher" and "Hunt the Slipper"—for those who liked them; and the elders endeavored to enter at least into the spirit of all that was going on, and not dampen the younger folks' pleasure by the exhibition of gloomy faces and constrained actions.