"Oh, Harriet," laughed Peggy. "Thee has said that before, but thee does not practice what thee preaches."
"What mean you?" demanded Harriet with a startled look.
"I have seen thee several times give something to a common soldier, as thee calls him. Yesterday when we were leaving General Greene"s I saw thee slip something to one when he came forward to tighten Fleetwood"s girth. John saw it too."
"I had forgot," remarked the girl carelessly. "Yes; I did give him a bit of money. Methinks he hath rendered us several services of like nature, Peggy, when something hath gone amiss. Yet it may not have been the same soldier. I scarce can tell one from another, there are so many."
"Thee has a good heart," commended Peggy warmly. "Mother says that "tis the only way to do a kindness. Perform the deed, and then forget it. But I always remember."
"Does Cousin David ride with us to-day, or doth the ensign?" asked Harriet.
""Tis John, my cousin. Father is on duty."
"I am sorry," said Harriet. "I do not like Ensign Drayton. He reminds me of a song they sing at home:
""With little hat and hair dressed high, And whip to ride a pony; If you but take a right survey Denotes a macaroni,""
she trilled musically. "Now don"t say anything, Peggy. I know he is considered a lad of parts. I heard two officers say that he would no doubt distinguish himself ere the war was over. "Twas at Mrs. Knox"s kettledrum."
"Now I must tell mother that," cried Peggy, her momentary vexation at Harriet"s song vanishing. "He is our especial soldier."
"Is he? And why?" asked Harriet. "Nay," she added as Peggy hesitated.
""Tis no matter. I knew not that it was a secret. I care not. I like him not, anyway. Peggy, do you like me very much?"
"I do indeed, Harriet," answered Peggy earnestly. "Why?"
"I am just heart-sick to hear from my father," said Harriet, the tears welling up into her beautiful eyes. "It hath been so long since I heard.
Not at all since I came, so long ago."
""Tis hard to get letters through the lines," said Peggy soberly.
"I know it is, for I have tried," answered Harriet. "The officers won"t send them. If you were away from Cousin David wouldn"t you make every effort to hear from him?"
"Indeed I would," responded Peggy. "Harriet, has thee asked father to help thee? He would take the matter to General Washington."
"General Washington does not wish to do it because I am British,"
answered Harriet after a moment. "I know that they must be careful, but oh! I am so anxious anent my father, Cousin Peggy."
"That is just as mother and I were about father last winter," observed Peggy. "At last Robert Dale wrote us that he was a prisoner in Philadelphia, and I rode into the city to see him."
"Was that when father was exchanged for him?" questioned the girl eagerly.
"Y-yes," hesitated Peggy. She did not like to tell Harriet what effort had to be made to get the exchange.
"Peggy, he helped you anent Cousin David then; will you help me about my father?"
"How could I, Harriet?" asked Peggy.
"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 ingrat.i.tude. "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."
And under the influence of this effusiveness Peggy saw not that the note her cousin handed to her was not the one which she had read.
CHAPTER XVII-A LETTER AND A SURPRISE
"Oh, never shall we know again A heart so stout and true- The olden times have pa.s.sed away, And weary are the new."
-Aytoun.
"Governor Livingston will dine with us to-day, Peggy," remarked Mrs.