Mr. Perrot, having given these necessary orders, David, with his papers, was soon closeted with the Colonel in his business room; and Jessie was ushered into the young lady’s boudoir, where her brother still sat, with the intention of giving his sister the benefit of his advice in the selection of what David called kick–shaws and modes for her toilet. Meanwhile Perrot was preparing a formidable attack upon Jessie’s heart, through the medium of some venison steaks, a delicate ragout of squirrel, and sundry other tit–bits, with which he hoped to propitiate the village beauty. As Jessie entered the room, her salutation of Lucy was modestly respectful; and she returned Reginald’s bow with an unembarrassed and not ungraceful courtesy. While she was drawing out and placing on a table the silken contents of her basket, Reginald inquired of her whether any news was stirring in Marietta. “None,” replied she, “except the killing of Hervey. All the town is speaking of it, and they say it will cause more bloodshed; for Mike Smith vows, if he cannot find the real offender, he’ll shoot down the first Indian he finds in the woods.” “Mike Smith is a hot–headed fool,” replied Reginald; but remembering sundry reports which had reached his ear, he added, “I beg your pardon, Miss Jessie, if the words give you offence.” “Indeed you have given none, Master Reginald,” said Jessie, colouring a little at the implied meaning of his words; “Mike comes very often to our store, but I believe it is more for whiskey than any thing else.” “Nay,” said Reginald; “I doubt you do him injustice. They say he prefers the end of the store which is the furthest from the bar.” “Perhaps he may,” replied Jessie; “I am always better pleased when he stays away, for he is very ill–tempered and quarrelsome! Well, Miss,” continued she, “are not these pink ribbons beautiful, and these two light shawls,—they come from the British East India House?” “They are indeed the prettiest and most delicate that I ever saw,” replied Lucy; “and see here, Reginald,” said she, drawing him aside, “these French bead necklaces will do famously for some of your Delaware friends.” She added in a whisper, “Ask her if there is no other news at the town?” “What about?” inquired her brother. A silent look of reproach was her only reply, as she turned away, and again busied herself with the silks. He was instantly conscious and ashamed of his thoughtlessness, which, after a few moments’ silence, he proceeded to repair, saying, “Pray tell me, Miss Jessie, has your father received no intelligence of The Pride of the Ohio?” “Alas! not a word,” replied the girl, in a tone of voice so melancholy, that it startled them both. “But why speak you in so sad a voice about the vessel, Jessie, if you have heard no bad news regarding her?” said Reginald, quickly. “Because, sir, she has been very long over–due, and there are many reports of French ships of war; and we, that is, my father, is much interested about her.”