“If you will just hand this note to that soldier that you saw me give the money to yesterday he will get it through the lines. Nay,” as Peggy opened her lips to speak. “You shall read it first. I would do nothing unless you should see that ’twas all right. Read, my cousin.” She thrust a note into Peggy’s hand as she spoke. “Miss Harriet Owen presents compliments to Sir Henry Clinton, and would esteem it a favor if he would tell her how Colonel William Owen is. A word that he is well is all that is desired. I have the honor, sir, to be, “Your humble and obliged servant, “Harriet Owen. “Middlebrook, New Jersey, Headquarters American Army.” “Why, there ought to be no objection to getting that through,” exclaimed Peggy. “Harriet, let me ask father——” “I have asked him,” said Harriet mournfully. “He would if he could, Peggy. He wishes me not to speak of it again, and I promised I would try to content myself without hearing from father. You must not speak of it either; else Cousin David will be angry with me for not trying to be content.” “Don’t cry, Harriet,” pleaded Peggy, as the girl commenced to sob, and her own tears began to flow. “Something can be done, I know. Thee ought to hear from Cousin William.” “Cousin David said I must be content,” sobbed Harriet. “And he hath been so good to me that I must; though ’tis very hard not to hear. I see that you do not wish to do it, Peggy. I meant no wrong to any, but——” “How does thee know that the soldier could get the note through the lines, Harriet?” asked Peggy thoughtfully. “He said that he was to have leave to go to Elizabethtown for a few days, and while there he could do it,” said Harriet, looking up through her tears. “Why does thee not give it to him, then?” inquired Peggy. “It must be given to him to-day,” answered the other, “because he goes to-morrow. If Cousin David were to ride with us I would, but Ensign Drayton always watches me as though I were in communication with the enemy, and about to bring the whole British force right down upon us. You know he does, Peggy.” Peggy flushed guiltily. “Yes,” she admitted, “he doth, Harriet. I knew not that thee was aware of it, though.” “Give me the note,” said Harriet, rising suddenly. “As my father helped you to your father I thought you would aid me, but I see——” “Nay,” said Peggy, her gentle heart not proof against the insinuation of ingratitude. “Give me the note, Harriet. I will give it to the man. I see not how it can bring harm to any, and thee ought to hear from thy father.” “How good you are, Peggy,” cried Harriet, kissing her. “Here is the note. If I can only hear this once I will be content until such time as Cousin David deems best. You are very sweet, my cousin.”