“But ’tis a position of danger as well as honor, Betty,” remarked Peggy. “If Mr. Washington does no more fighting than he hath done for the past few years your Robert Dale will be in no danger,” observed Harriet, who was certainly in a bad mood for the day. “Oh, as to that,” retorted Betty airily, “we manage to get in a victory often enough to keep up our spirits. Really, Harriet, I do wish thee could meet Robert.” “And I wish that you both could meet my brother, Clifford,” cried Harriet. “Why, none of the youths in the rebel camp at Middlebrook could compare with him in looks. He is so handsome, and noble, and brave. Oh, I do wish that I could see him!” she ended, a pathetic quaver coming into her voice. “Thee has not seen him since thee came to America, has thee?” asked Betty. Peggy, whose gentle heart was touched by the feeling her cousin exhibited, forgot how trying she had been, and pressed her hand tenderly. “No, Betty. He left home soon after father came to join General Gage in Boston. When we were in New York City father had Sir Henry Clinton to go over the rosters of the different regiments to see if we could locate him, but we could find no trace of him. I did not mind so much until since I have been ill, but now I want to see him so much.” “Does he look like Cousin William, Harriet?” asked Peggy. “No; he is more like your father than mine. Father says that Cousin David is like my grandfather, and Clifford is the living representative of the picture of grandfather.” “If he is like father he must be all that thee claims for him,” spoke Peggy warmly. “I should dearly like to see him, Harriet, and perhaps thee will hear of him soon. If he is in this country anywhere with the British army thee will surely hear of him in time. Don’t grieve.” “If thee does find him I hope that he will come to Philadelphia,” laughed Betty, who had put up her hair and adopted young lady airs. “I like nice boys, be they English or American.” “Or French,” put in Peggy slyly. “I’ve heard that thee takes a lesson each morning from one of the aides of Monsieur de la Luzerne, the French minister. Thee needs to be dealt with, Betty.” “Peggy Owen, Sally hath been telling thee tales out of school,” cried Betty, her face flushing. “When did thee see her?” “A hit! A hit!” laughed Peggy. “How thee mantles, Betty. Know then that I stayed with Sallie last night, and thereby increased my knowledge as to several matters. She said——” “I must be going,” uttered Betty hastily. “Good-bye, girls. Come and see me, Harriet, but leave thy cousin at home.” She darted away before Peggy could call out the merry retort that rose to her lips. Then the maiden turned to Harriet. “And ’twould be wise for us to go too, Harriet,” she said. “The air begins to grow chill, and thee must not take cold. See! many of the skaters and promenaders are leaving, and soon there will be none left. I did not know that ’twas so late. Is thee tired?”