the drawing-room only to
encounter Kitty in the hall.

"A Happy New Year to you," said Kitty, in a tone of gayety which she was
far from feeling. "I ran over to give greeting to grandma, and as I came
my petticoat gave way; let me mount to your chamber and fasten it before
I go to grandma's."

"Certainly," said Betty, and seizing hands both girls ran rapidly up the
staircase. Inside the small chamber, Kitty closed the door, and set her
back against it.

"The petticoat is fast enough, Betty, but I have something grave to say.
Oliver is still in the city--he goes to the De Lanceys' to-night--I was
to warn you."

"In what disguise?" asked Betty breathlessly.

"Indeed, I know not, except that he will represent Mynheer Diedrich
Gansevoort, from Albany; oh, Betty, I am sore afraid."

"Nay, wherefore?" and Betty's eyes sparkled as her color rose. "We
Wolcotts are not wont to fail, and I am now too accustomed to Oliver's
hairbreadth escapes for fright."

"You were well alarmed at the servants' dance; oh, how rash he is!"

"We spare nothing in our country's cause," said Betty, with a proud
little toss of her head; "but, Kitty, forgive me if I appear
intrusive--I am puzzled to know how and where you and Oliver"--

"You should have known long ago," interrupted Kitty, blushing deeply,
"but, somehow, I never could approach near enough to your heart to
confess that Oliver and I are trothplighted though my mother's consent
is lacking. We met in Albany--again at West Point, and oh, Betty, how I
have longed to tell you. I have seen you look at me with eyes so like
his; with such scornful glance when I laugh and jest with those hateful
redcoats, such kindly smile when I showed you that I am at heart a
patriot. Forgive me, dear, and let us do all we can to help Oliver
to-night, for he is determined to be at the De Lanceys' as by going
there he can obtain certain important information for the cause of
freedom."

Betty threw her arms around Kitty; why did she feel as if the innocent
words stabbed her? Had the "hateful redcoats" ceased to be hateful to
her?

"Trothplighted," she whispered, with wide-open eyes of delight; "I hoped
as much--how happy my father will be when Oliver"--

"Nay, nay," cried blushing Kitty, "you go too fast; think of madam, my
mother, and her antipathy to the 'rebels,' as she calls them, quite
forgetting that my aunt (where I made my home in Albany for three years)
is one, as well as her naughty daug