th a smiling nod to the little
girl who stood gazing at him from the doorway.

"If thee please, sir, this is my niece, Ruth Pennell, who has long
cherished the hope of seeing thee," said Aunt Deborah.

The young Frenchman rose from his seat, and bowed as ceremoniously as if
Lady Washington herself stood before him.

Ruth could think only of her thick shoes and the wandering strings, as
she endeavored to make a proper curtsy.

Lafayette was in the uniform of an American officer, and two American
soldiers were on guard at the open door. The little party had ridden
over from Valley Forge under cover of the night to discover a
camping-ground for a body of troops which Lafayette was soon to lead
toward Philadelphia, for Washington had discovered that Sir Henry
Clinton had orders to evacuate the city.

"Will you not share my breakfast, Mistress Ruth?" asked the young
Frenchman, drawing one of the high-backed wooden chairs to the table
beside his own.

"The child will indeed be honored," replied Aunt Deborah, and almost
before Ruth could realize the great honor in store for her she found
herself seated at the table. She looked up to find Lafayette smiling at
her shy word of thanks.

What a wonderful breakfast for any little girl to have to remember. Ruth
wished with all her heart that Winifred and Gilbert could see her.

"I have a small daughter of my own in France," said the kind young
Frenchman, "and I hear that your father is at Valley Forge."

"Yes, sir," responded Ruth faintly, wondering to herself why she did not
at once tell him what she had heard the English officers at Southwark
say of General Howe's intention to capture him.

"Well, very soon he will be safe at home," continued Lafayette. And now
Ruth resolved to speak.

"If you please, sir----" she began, but at that moment Lafayette sprang
to his feet, and with a word of thanks to Aunt Deborah for her
hospitality, and a smiling nod to Ruth, he started toward the door,
saying:

"I have indeed lingered too long. I must lose no time in getting back to
camp."

But now Ruth was out of her chair in a second; she was no longer in awe
of the young Frenchman.

"I must tell you. I heard two Englishmen say you were to be captured and
taken to England," she declared eagerly, running along by his side.

The young man smiled down at the eager, half frightened child.

"Ah, well, _ma chere_, they have been saying that for a long time," he
responded lightly, "b