"What else is there for us to do?"
"I should go to Albany," said she, "as soon as may be. And I am resolved to do so and to seek out Mr. Fonda and disembarrass you of any further care for me."
"It is no burden," said I; "but I do not know where I shall be sent, now that the war is come to Tryon County. And—I can not bear to think of you alone and unprotected, living the miserable life of a refugee in the women's quarters at Johnstown Fort."
"Does solicitude for my welfare truly occupy your thoughts, sir?"
"Why, yes, and naturally. Are we not close friends and comrades in misfortune, Penelope?"
"I counted it no misfortune to live at Summer House."
"No, nor I.... I was very happy there.... Alas for your pretty cottage!—poor little châtelaine of Summer House!"
"John Drogue?"
"I hear you."
"Did you suppose I ever meant to take that gift of you?"