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
"I fear me, child, that thy vanity, which has ever led thee to
give too much heed to the pretty speeches of men, has misled
thee in this instance."
Janice's doubt grew in the next two days, for by not a word
or act did the aide even hint that such a hope was present in
his thoughts. Their every need was his care, and all his spare
time was passed in their company; but his manner conveyed
only the courtesy of the friend, and never the tenderness of the
lover. Even when the maiden presented him with the silk
purse to which she had given so many hours of toil, his thanks,
though warm, were distinctly platonic. Both piqued and
humiliated at his conduct, the girl was glad enough when, on
the morning of the third day, they set out on their journey, and
she almost welcomed the advent of Bagby, who overtook them
as they were taking their noon baiting at Bristol, and who made
the afternoon ride with them.
Another familiar face greeted them, as, toward nightfall, they
rode into Trenton and drew rein in front of the Drinkers' house,
whither the ladies had asked to be taken; for ere Janice had
been lifted from the horse's back, or Mrs. Meredith had descended
from the pillion, they were accosted by Squire Hennion.
"I hoped ez haow we wuz well quit of yer," he began; "an'
yer need n't 'spect, after all yer goin's on, an' those of yer--
ole Tory husband, thet ye're goin' ter be allaowed ter come
back ter Greenwood. I persume Joe 's told yer thet he an' I
is goin' ter git a bill through this Assembly declarin' yer lands
escheated."
"You have n't any right to talk for me, squire," protested
Joe. "I can do my own talking; and my sympathies is always
with the female sex."
"He, he!" snickered Hennion. "Ain't we doin' the gallant
all of a suddint! An' ain't we foxy? Joe, here," he continued,
turning to the ladies, "come ter me jest afore we left Brunswick,
with a bill he'd draw'd ter take yer lands, an' he says ter
me he wuz a-goin' ter push it through Assembly. But by the
time we gits ter Trenton, word come thet the redcoats wuz a
scuttlin' fer York, so Joe he set off like a jiffy ter see, I persume,
if yer wuz ter be faound. Did he offer ter buy yer lands
cheap, or did he ask ter be bought off? Or is the sly tyke
snoopin' araound arter yer darter?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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