“Really? Truly? ‘Pon your honor?” cried Elisha, squeezing her hands tighter.
“Come inside and let’s have a talk,” said Martha, trying to free herself from his grasp. But she only half tried; and when presently they were seated side by side he was still holding fast to her right wrist.
“What delicious flowers!” observed Martha, looking down at a nosegay which the youth had stuck in his belt. “Wild-flowers give no such perfume.”
“These are for you,” said her lover, presenting them to her. “They came from Van Cortlandt’s garden. I spent last night at the Manor. Van Cortlandt is a patriot, and is not ashamed to offer a farmer’s son hospitality.”
“How delicious!” said Martha, bringing the nosegay to her nose. “Colonel Delancey’s hot-house plants cannot surpass them.”
“Delancey! The Tory! The Cowboy chief! What do you know about his flowers, Martha?”
“Harry Valentine brought me a magnolia from there a few days ago,” replied Martha frankly.
The other murmured something to himself, then burst out: “Confound and hang the Tories!”
Martha was silent a moment, then remarked: “Well, however much you dislike them, I hope you will not harm Harry Valentine, if he ever falls into your hands.”
“It being your wish, I will always aim a mile above his precious head,” returned Elisha.