“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be likely to take him by the lapel of his coat and say, ‘Mr. Baldwin, I want you should know I don’t care for Robert Clinton.’” Lettice imitated Rhoda’s tones so exactly that Betty laughed. “No, you couldn’t do that,” she agreed. “Now I have something to tell you. He, like an honorable gentleman, has told William that in a moment of excitement, when he thought you were in danger, he declared his love for you, and--” “And--oh, Betty, what? He has never referred to it since; and tell me, what did William say?” “He requested him not to see you or communicate with you till your father’s permission could be obtained.” Lettice heaved a deep sigh. “And what did he say?” “He promised, but asked that you might know; so, as William had no liking to tell you himself, he asked me to do it. So there--my disagreeable task is over. Do you forgive me for my part in it?” “I thank you for your gentle way of telling me, and I would rather have heard it from you than from William.” “Thank you, dear. Now, never mind, my honey, just bide your time. For myself, I like Mr. Ellicott Baldwin mightily. Don’t you miss poor Lutie, when it comes to a matter of toilet?” she asked, to change the subject. “Yes, poor Lutie, I do miss her. Ah, Betty dear, you are truly like my own sister. You understand so well, and I like better to be with you than any one. Alas, where will be our home?” “I wouldn’t bother over that. Let the future take care of itself. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,’ you know. You have seen evil enough, poor Letty. Good night and sweet dreams;” and she left Lettice to think over all this new situation. Volunteers were tramping into the city; preparations were going forward for a brave defence, and when Lettice laid her head upon her pillow, it was to dream of future alarms and start up more than once with a little cry. Once Betty heard her and came in to bend gently over her. “She is only dreaming, poor little soul,” she murmured. “What a peck of trouble she has had, to be sure.” The morning seemed to realize Lettice’s dreams, for Danny came in, his eyes rolling around in excitement. “M-m-miss Letty, dey done comed, dey done comed!” he stammered. “Who?” cried Lettice, looking up from the flowers she was arranging. “De redcoats. Dey ships in de ribber; dey is, fo’ sho’. I ain’ tellin’ no sto’y, Miss Letty.” Lettice knew danger was near, for her brother, who had gone out the night before, had not returned, and she saw that vigorous measures were being adopted for the defence of the city. She thought of Washington and sighed. “Is yuh skeered, Miss Letty?” asked Danny, who was watching to get his cue from her. “Not scared, but very anxious. Where is Miss Betty?” “She puttin’ de baby ter sleep. Miss Marthy, she fussin’ roun’ lak a ole hen.”