Her eyes were shining. She was for the nonce a happy maiden concerned with naught save the pleasures of girlhood, and possessed of a mood that would have been habitual had not the mighty sweep of public events tinged her girlish gaiety with an untoward gravity. Some such thought flitted through Mrs. Owen’s mind as she surveyed her daughter with tender eyes, and she sighed. A look of anxiety flitted over Peggy’s face. “Is thee not well?” she queried. “Or is it wrong, mother, for me to be so happy when father is in the field?” “Neither, my daughter. I was but wishing that thou couldst be as care free all the time as thou art to-night. But there! we will partake of the fruit that is offered leaving the bitter until the morrow. Thy gown well becomes thee, child. I make no doubt but that thou wilt look as well as any.” “Mother,” exclaimed the girl, a soft flush dyeing her face, “thee will make me vain.” “I trust not, my daughter. Others will, no doubt, tell thee so, and ’tis as well that thou shouldst hear it first from me. Let it not spoil thee, Peggy. Ah! here is Sukey to tell us that Robert and his uncle have come for us.” Peggy gave a backward look at her reflection in the mirror, and well pleased with what she saw there followed her mother sedately to the drawing-room where Robert Dale and his uncle, Mr. Jacob Deering, awaited them. The latter, stately in an olive-colored silk velvet with knee buckles, silk stockings, bright silver shoe-buckles and the usual three looped hat held in his hand, hastened to greet them as they entered. “Zounds! Miss Peggy,” he cried. “’Tis well that I am not a young buck, else you should look no further for a gallant. Bless me, but you have grown pretty! Bob, you rascal! why did you not prepare me for what I should see? Upon my word, child, you must not mind a kiss from an old man.” So saying he held her at arm’s length in admiration, and then kissed her on both her cheeks. Whereat Peggy blushed right prettily. “Thee will make me vain,” she protested. “And mother hath but ceased warning me against such vanity. In truth, Friend Deering, I believe that no girl was ever so happy as I am to-night.” “‘Gather ye rosebuds while ye may: Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow may be dying,’” he quoted gaily. “Have your fling, child. The morrow may bring grave problems to be solved, so be happy while you can. ’Tis youth’s prerogative. Bob, do you follow with Mrs. Owen. I shall take an old man’s privilege and lead the princess to the coach myself. I’ faith, there will be no opportunity for a word with her once she reaches headquarters.” Peggy gave Robert Dale an arch glance over her shoulder as the old gentleman led her to the coach, where she settled herself to await with what patience she could their arrival at Major-General Arnold’s.