Janice longed to ask more questions, but did not dare, and as the bottle passed, the conversation became general, permitting her to become a listener. When the moment came for the ladies to withdraw, she followed her mother.
“Oh, mommy!” she said the instant she could, “didst recognise Charles?”
“Charles! What Charles?”
“Charles Fownes—our bond-servant—Colonel Brereton.”
“Nonsense, child! What maggot idea hast thee got now?”
“’T is he truly—and I never thought he could be handsome. But his being clean-shaven and wearing a wig—”
“No more of thy silly clack!” ordered her mother. “A runaway bond-servant on his Excellency’s staff, quotha! Though he does head the rebels, General Washington is a man of breeding and would never allow that.”
Before the men rose from the table the ladies were joined by Washington and Mr. Meredith.
“I have already expressed my regrets to your husband, Mrs. Meredith,” said the general, “that a suspicion against him should have put you all to such material discomfort, and I desire to repeat them to you. Yet however greatly I mourn the error for your sake, for my own it is somewhat balanced by the pleasure you have afforded me by your company. Indeed, ’t is with a certain regret that I received Colonel Brereton’s report, which, by completely exonerating Mr. Meredith, is like to deprive us of your presence.”
“Your Excellency is over-kind,” replied Mrs. Meredith, with an ease that excited the envy of her daughter.