“No; and I got well scolded for my extravagance,” laughed Mrs. Bache. “He sent the things he thought necessary, omitting the others. He advised me to wear cambric ruffles instead of lace, and to take care not to mend them. In time they would come to lace, he said. As for feathers, why send that which could be had from every cock’s tail in America.” “How like Dr. Franklin that is,” remarked Mrs. Owen much amused. “What did thee answer?” “That I had to be content with muslin caps in winter, and in summer I went without. As for cambric I had none to make lace of. Oh, we shall all come to linsey-woolsey, I fear. Dr. Shippen talks of moving his family from the city, and the rest of us will have to do the same.” She moved away. The shopkeeper turned to bring on more goods, hoping to tempt his customers, and Peggy took hold of her mother’s hand gently. “It will cut into thy resources greatly to get these things, won’t it, mother?” “Yes,” assented the lady soberly. “For the frock alone I would have to pay as much as I had intended for thy entire outfit.” “Then thee must not do it,” said Peggy gravely. “There is one way that it can be done, my daughter,” said her mother not looking at her. “If thou wilt consent to forego all charitable gifts this winter; if thou wilt let the soldiers or any other needy ones go without benefit from thee; then thou canst take the money for all thy things: the hat, the coat, the two frocks, the gloves, and all the other necessaries of which we spoke. Now, Peggy, I will not blame thee if thou dost choose according to thy wishes, for thou hast already given up much. It rests with thee.” Peggy looked at the dazzling array of fabrics spread temptingly upon the counter. She did want a new gown so badly. She needed it, she told herself quickly. She had given up a great deal. Must she give up in this too? For an instant she wavered, and then a vision of some of the soldiers that she had seen flashed across her mind, and she turned from the glittering array with a little sob. “I could not, I could not,” she cried. “And have nothing for the poor soldiers! It would be a sin! But oh, mother! do let us hurry away from here. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is so weak.” Pausing only for a word of courteous explanation to the mercer the lady followed the maiden from the store. CHAPTER V—UP IN THE ATTIC “Up in the attic where mother goes Is a trunk in a shadowed nook— A trunk—and its lid she will oft unclose, As if ’twere a precious book. She kneels at its side on the attic boards, And tenderly, soft and slow, She counts all the treasures she fondly hoards— The things of long ago.” —Anonymous.