at was a short time; for the British disembarked upon Long
Island, met Washington's army there and defeated it, so that it had to
slip back to New York in boats by night; then landed above the town,
almost in time to cut it off as it fled Northward; fought part of it
on the heights of Harlem; kept upon its heels in Westchester County;
encountered it again near White Plains; and came back triumphant to
winter in and about New York. And now we loyalists and the rebel
sympathisers exchanged tunes; and Margaret was as much for the king
again as ever--she never cared two pins for either cause, I fancy,
save as it might, for the time being, serve her desire to shine.

She was radiant and joyous, and made no attempt to disguise her
feelings, when it was a settled fact that the British army should
occupy New York indefinitely.

"'Tis glorious!" said she, dancing up and down the parlour before Tom
and me. "This will be some relief from dulness, some consolation! The
town will be full of gallant generals and colonels, handsome majors,
dashing captains; there are lords and baronets among 'em; they'll be
quartered in all the good houses; there will be fine uniforms,
regimental bands, and balls and banquets! Why, I can quite endure
this! War has its compensations. We'll have a merry winter of it,
young gentlemen! Sure 'twill be like a glimpse of London."

"And there'll be much opportunity for vain ladies to have their heads
turned!" quoth Tom, half in jest, half in disapproval.

"I know nothing of that," says she, "but I do know whose sister will
be the toast of the British Army before a month is past!"

If the king's troops acquired a toast upon entering New York, the
rebels had gained a volunteer upon leaving it. One day, just before
Washington's army fled, Tom Faringfield came to me with a face all
amusement.

"Who do you think is the latest patriot recruit?" cried he. It was our
custom to give the rebels ironically their own denomination of
patriots.

"Not you nor I, at any rate," said I.

"But one of the family, nevertheless."

"Why, surely--your father has not--"

"Oh, no; only my father's eldest."

"Ned?"

"Nobody else. Fancy Ned taking the losing side! Oh, 'fore God, it's
true! He came home in a kind of uniform to-day, and told father what
he had done; the two had a long talk together in private after that;
and though father never shows his thoughts, I believe he really has
some hopes of Ned now. The rebels m