“True, you have me fairly with that ace. Let us try it again—‘Deprissa resurgit,’ as the Continentals say on their worthless paper money.”
“Joscelyn,” said Mary suddenly, “did I tell you that Aunt Ann said in her letter that Cousin Ellen wore a yellow silk to the ball given to welcome General Howe to Philadelphia?”
“I do believe you left out that important item,” laughed Joscelyn.
“Why, how came you to be so remiss, I pray you, sister? The flight of congress from the Quaker city, and its seizure by his Majesty’s troops, are but insignificant matters compared to the fact that our cousin wore yellow silk to the general’s ball,” teased her brother. Whereupon Mary went pouting across the room and sat at the window, calling out to the players at the table the names of those who went in and out of the house of festivity opposite.
“Yonder are Mistress Strudwick and Doris Henderson—dear me! I wonder what it feels like to be so stout as Mistress Strudwick? Billy Bryce and his mother are just behind them. I see Janet and Betty through the window. Betty has on that pink brocade with the white lace.”
“Then I warrant some of those recruits will go to the war already wounded, for in that gown Mistress Betty is sweet enough to break any man’s heart.”
“Eustace, I do believe you are halfway in love with Betty.”
“Why put it only halfway, my dear? The whole is ever better than a part.”
“What think you, Joscelyn, is he in earnest? And how does Betty like him?”