“Thou dear thing!” she exclaimed laying her head on the mare’s silky mane. “I do wish thee was going with me. Thee has been my companion through so many jaunts that I don’t feel quite right at leaving thee. Oh, I do wish thee was going!” The little mare whinnied and rubbed her nose gently against her young mistress as though she too would like to go. Peggy stroked her softly. “I do wish thee was going,” she said again. “Then no matter what happened I would always have a way to get back to mother. Why, Peggy Owen!” she exclaimed as the full import of the words she had just spoken came to her. “What whimsies have beset thy brain that thou shouldst say that? What could happen? Thee must not get the megrims, Peggy, before thee has started. There, Star! I must not linger with thee. Now I have kissed thee just on the spot that gave thee thy name. Thou wilt remember thou art to give me a good ride when I come back.” Peggy gave a last lingering caress to her pet, and turned reluctantly to leave her. As she did so she found herself face to face with Sally Evans and Betty Williams. “We thought we should find thee here,” cried Sally. “When the doctor told me that thee was to go down to see Harriet’s brother, I went for Betty at once. We came to see thee off.” “Oh, Peggy, I think thee has the most luck,” grumbled Betty. “The South hath all the fighting, and thee is going right there.” “Why, no, Betty,” corrected Peggy with a laugh. “The fighting is in the Carolinas, and I go only to Virginia. There is no warfare there. I should not go if there were.” “Well, I should, and I had the chance. I suppose Virginia is not Carolina,” went on Betty, who was hazy about her geography, “but ’tis much nearer than Philadelphia. I do think, Peggy Owen, that thee has the most delightsome adventures in the world,” she ended with a sigh. “I am afraid that it will not be very pleasant to go to a cousin who is dying,” returned Peggy soberly. “Come, girls! ’tis time for me to dress. Let us go to my room. I am to go with a nurse and her escort. She hath been up here on a visit, and ’tis fortunate that she returns just at this time.” “I knew thee would go just as soon as I knew that Harriet was not here,” said Sally, winding her arm about her waist. “There was naught else to do.” “That was what mother and I thought, Sally. Would that I had thy skill and experience in nursing. Then perchance I could bring my cousin back to health.” “Well, thee shouldn’t want to, Peggy,” cried Betty. “Look how the British treat our poor fellows when they are wounded. Yet we treat our prisoners as though they were friends, and not enemies. I get out of patience with Sally here when I see her so good to them when any are brought into the hospital wounded. And why does thee do it, Sally?”