An Unwilling Maid: Being the History of Certain Episodes during the American Revolution in the Early Life of Mistress Betty Yorke, born Wolcott — John Shaqi
An Unwilling Maid: Being the History of Certain Episodes during the American Revolution in the Early Life of Mistress Betty Yorke, born WolcottLincoln, Jeanie Gould
History
An Unwilling Maid: Being the History of Certain Episodes during the American Revolution in the Early Life of Mistress Betty Yorke, born Wolcott
Lincoln, Jeanie Gould
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
Betty stumbled blindly over the threshold, and with shaking fingers
secured the outer bolt of the buttery door. Her head was whirling, and
she dared not stop there even to think over this extraordinary
adventure, for Moppet was doubtless waiting breathlessly for her return;
and at the recollection Betty's nerves grew steadier, and she bethought
herself that a glass of milk would be needed by the child and that she
must take it to her. So she filled the smallest dipper, not wishing to
go back into the china pantry for fear of noise, and, with the milk in
hand, concluded it was wiser to seek the main staircase in the hall,
rather than wake Reuben by drawing his attention to the exit on the
garret stairway. And fortunate it was for Betty that she had so
determined; for as she set her foot upon the first step of the stairs,
she beheld Oliver leaning over the upper balustrade, gazing gravely
down upon her.
"Good-morning," said Betty readily, in a cheerful undertone, as she
reached his side; "you are up betimes, Oliver."
"Where have you been?" asked her brother.
"To the buttery," said Betty; "this is milk for Moppet. The child is
wakeful, and needs it."
"Why did you not send Reuben?" asked Oliver, who was always kind and
attentive to his sisters.
"Reuben?" echoed Betty. "Did you not set him as guard to your prisoner?"
and then, her heart smiting her for the gibe, "Miss Bidwell lets no one
meddle with her milk pans, and I knew best which were last night's
milk," and she went up the hall with a naughty little throb of mingled
mischief and triumph, as she thought how she had outwitted him, while
the unsuspecting Oliver seated himself near the north chamber door.
Moppet, sitting up in bed, welcomed her sister with open arms, and drank
the milk thirstily, as Betty told her that all was safe, and that
Captain Yorke was now well on his way.
"I'm as glad as can be," said Moppet, who was troubled with no
conscientious scruples whatsoever, and was now beginning to enjoy
herself intensely at sharing a mystery with Betty; "I told him you were
gone, after the big clock struck three, and oh, Betty, he kissed my hand
through the hole in the chimney."
"Did he?" said Betty, flushing brightly under Moppet's keen glance.
"And I sat there and shivered," went on Moppet, discreetly dropping that
branch of the subject, "for I could hear his feet as he climbed, and
once he slipped and I was so frightened lest he should come tumbling
down and our fine plot be discovered. Betty, Betty, what a fine flutter
Oliver and Josiah will be in at breakfast!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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