r heart. The only way in which he
showed his suspicion was in the occasional bits of news concerning Yorke
with which he favored her. At the battle of Cowpens Yorke had been
wounded and taken prisoner, and it fell to Oliver Wolcott to arrange for
his exchange. Then, for the first time, were Oliver's surmises changed
to certainties, for one night when he had been attending the prisoner,
whose wound was nearly healed, Yorke broke silence and in the frankest,
most manly fashion demanded news of his little sweetheart, and told
Oliver of his hopes and fears. Nothing could have appealed so directly
to the brother as Yorke's avowal that Betty had refused him because of
the coat he wore, and his eyes filled as he said, boyishly enough,
"Egad, Yorke, she has all the Wolcott pluck and patriotism; though were
this vexed question of independence settled, I wish with all my heart
that you may yet conquer this unwilling maid whom I call sister."

Yorke smiled, but he did not consider it necessary to add that Betty had
once let compassion and gratitude get the better of her loyalty in the
matter of a prisoner, to Oliver's own discomfiture.

There had been some changes in the Wolcott home: Pamela had gone forth
from the mansion a bride, after Cornwallis had surrendered at Yorktown,
and Josiah Huntington had worn a major's uniform on his wedding-day.
Betty had scarcely recovered from that break in the home circle when
Sally Tracy, with many blushes and much laughter, confessed that she,
too, was about to follow Pamela's example, and that a certain Mr. James
Gould, the gentleman from Branford, of whom Moppet had been so
suspicious, was the lucky individual upon whom she intended to bestow
her hand. Verily, with all these wedding-bells sounding, Betty began to
feel that she was likely to be left alone, but who only laughed gayly
when twitted with her fancy for maidenhood, and danced as merrily at
Sally's wedding as if her heart had lain light in her bosom instead of
aching bitterly for one whom she began to fear she should never see
more.

Little did Betty guess that bright October morning, when she and Moppet
went forth bent on a nutting excursion, that a courier was even now
speeding on his way whose coming would change the tide of her whole
existence. And when, as noon struck, Oliver Wolcott dismounted at the
door of his home and, walking straight to his father's study, delivered
a packet from General Wolcott to Miss Euphemia, his ne