"Sammy!" cried Dorothy, "what did you steal your father's best snuff-box for?"
"I only desired to offer snuff to General Schuyler," said Sammy, sullenly, amid a roar of laughter.
"We're to dine at eight! Everybody is dressing; come on, Dorothy!" cried Cecile. "Mr. Clavarack vowed he'd perish if I kept him waiting--"
"You should see the escort!" said Ruyven to me. "Dragoons, cousin, in leather helmets and jack-boots, and all wearing new sabres taken from the Hessian cavalry. They're in the quarters with Tim Murphy, of Morgan's, and, Lord! how thirsty they appear to be!"
"There's the handsomest man I ever saw," murmured Cecile to Dorothy, "Captain O'Neil, of the New York line. He's dying to see you; he said so to Mr. Clavarack, and I heard him."
Dorothy looked up with heightened color.
"Will you walk the minuet with me, Dorothy?" I whispered.
She looked down, faintly smiling:
"Perhaps," she said.
"That is no answer," I retorted, surprised and hurt.