“Don’t look as if you had seen a rattlesnake, Betty,” cried George, giving her a very cruel pinch, “but run, like a good child as you are, though flighty, and tell our mother that I am here.”
Before Betty could move a step in marched Madam Washington, stately and beautiful as ever. And there were the three boys, all handsome youths, but handsomer when they were not contrasted with the elder brother; and then, quite gayly and as if he were a mere lad, George plunged into his story, telling his mother that he was to make the campaign with General Braddock as first aide-de-camp, and trying to tell her about the officers’ letter, which he took from his pocket, but, blushing very much, was going to return it, had not Betty seized it as with an eagle’s claw.
“Betty,” cried George, stamping his foot, “give me back that letter!”
“No, indeed, George,” answered Betty, with calm disdain. “Do not put on any of your grand airs with me. I have heard of this letter, and I mean to read it aloud to our mother. And you may storm and stamp and fume all you like—’tis not of the slightest consequence.”
So George, scowling and yet forced to laugh a little, had to listen to all the compliments paid him read out in Betty’s rich, ringing young voice, while his mother sat and glowed with pride, and his younger brothers hurrahed after the manner of boys; and when Betty had got through the letter her laughing face suddenly changed to a very serious one, and she ran to George and kissed him all over his cheeks, saying:
“Dear George, it makes me so happy that I both want to laugh and cry—dear, dear brother!”
And George, with tender eyes, kissed Betty in return, so that she knew how much he loved her.
When Madam Washington spoke it was in a voice strangely different from her usually calm, musical tones. She had just got the idol of her heart back from all his dangers, and she was loath to let him go again, and told him so.
“But, mother,” answered George, after listening to her respectfully, “when I started upon my campaign last year you told me that you placed me in God’s keeping. The God to whom you commended me then defended me from all harm, and I trust He will do so now. Do not you?”
Madam Washington paused, and the rare tears stole down her cheeks.