Janice Meredith: A Story of the American RevolutionFord, Paul Leicester
History
Janice Meredith: A Story of the American Revolution
Ford, Paul Leicester
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"That it might be blacker can at least be said, and that is
why I wish thee not to let thy feelings set too strongly against
Lord Clowes. Here 's a peer of England, Jan, with wealth as
well, eager to wed thee. He is not what I would have him,
but it would be a load off my mind and off thy mother's to
feel that thy future at least is made safe and--"
"I'd die sooner than live such a future," cried the girl.
"I could not live with him!"
"Yet ye ran off with this man."
"But then I did not know him as I know him now. You
won't force me, will you, dadda?"
"That I'll not; but act not impulsively, lass. Talk with
thy mother, and view it from all sides. And meantime, we'll
hope he'll not hear of the poor lad's death."
Left alone by her father to digest this advice, Janice lapsed
into a despondent attitude, while remarking: "'T is horrible,
and never could I bring myself to it. Starvation would be
easier." She sat a little time pondering; then, getting her
cloak, calash, and pattens, she set forth, the look of thought
displaced by one of determination. A hurried walk of a few
squares brought her to the Franklin house, where she asked
for Andre.
"Miss Meredith," cried the captain, as he appeared at the
door, "this is indeed an honour! But why tarry you
outside?"
"I fear me, Captain Andre, that I am doing a monstrous
bold thing, and therefore will not enter, but beg of you instead
that you walk with me a little distance, for I am in a real
difficulty and would ask your help."
The officer caught up his hat and sword, and in a moment
they were walking down Second Street. Several times Janice
unsuccessfully sought to begin her tale, but Andre finally had
to come to her assistance.
"You surely do not fear to trust me, Miss Meredith, and
you cannot doubt the surety of assistance, if it be within my
power?"
For a moment the girl's lips trembled; then she said," Dost
truly think the miniature frame I showed thee is worth as much
as five hundred pounds?"
"I think 't is, beyond doubt."
"And dost thou think that thee couldst obtain four hundred
pounds for it?"
"Of that I can scarce give assurance, for 't is a question
whether a purchaser can be found for it. Yet I make small
doubt, Miss Meredith," he added, "that if you will leave
your portrait in it, one man there is in Philadelphia will
gladly buy it at that price, though he run in debt to do it.
If you desire to sell it, why do you not offer it to Mobray?"
The girl had coloured with Andre's first remark, and ere he
had completed his speech, her cheeks were all aglow. "I--
I could not offer it to him. Surely you can understand that
't would be impossible?" she stammered.
"I suppose I am dull-witted not to know it," said Andre,
hurriedly, in evident desire to lessen her embarrassment.
"However, 't was but a suggestion, and if you desire to sell,
I will gladly undertake to negotiate it for you."
"Oh, will you?" cried the girl, eagerly. "'T will so
greatly service me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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