h returned?" asked Katie, after further details of the
surrender had been given.

"Yes; she came home with her father in Captain Bennett's ship. I saw her
that same day."

"How is she?"

"Very well; she looks worn, however; she must have worked hard. She is a
strange young lady,--very charming, though."

"Yes, indeed; as good as gold," assented Katie, wondering if Elizabeth's
fatigue had seriously injured her good looks. She wondered, also, if
Stephen were any more reconciled to his fate. But she did not ask this.

"I suppose Stephen has not come home yet," said her mother at the
moment.

"He will not be here at present. He wrote me that Pepperell needed him
there."

New England was full of the elation that a youth feels at having given
evidence of manly prowess. For the idea of the expedition had been born
in the colonial brain, and the enterprise had been carried through by
colonial nerve, muscle, and endurance. The very sinews of war had come
from New England. Days of thanksgiving were appointed. The soldiers who
returned broken down by wounds or illness found welcome and aid, and the
families of those who had died in the service were considered by some as
opportunities for proving the gratitude they felt for victory. Europe
was amazed at the exploit, and England had good reason to remember a
conquest which counterbalanced the disasters that she had met with on
the Continent, and was the best achievement of the war of 1744. News
soon came that Warren had been made Admiral, and their own soldier,
Pepperell, created a Baronet.

One perfect afternoon in September Katie set out through the fields to
her uncle's house. The walk was not too long when one went across lots.
She would perhaps stay to tea, and then the Colonel would send her home.
She felt that it was very nice in all the family not to resent her
change of mind in regard to Stephen. That day she went on in happy mood.

At last she crossed the little bridge over the creek, and walked slowly
up to the house, wondering that she had found neither of her cousins on
the river this beautiful day. They would have taken her across the
stream, and saved her the distance down the bank to the bridge, and up
the long avenue on the other side. But it was cool under the arching
trees. She sauntered on. Exercise had brightened her color a little, but
it was still as delicate as the petal of a rose; her eyes, too, were
full of brightness; her mouth, with its beautif