in closely, as they
gathered in eager bunches about the open windows.

Enough conversation reached me to disclose a promised display of
fireworks on the lawn, and almost immediately, a magnificent bouquet of
rockets shot up into the black sky, illuminating everything with a glare
of fire. This was followed by the lighting up of the triumphal arch, and
the bursting of balloons high overhead. Attracted by the spectacle, I was
staring out at the dazzling scene, when a voice spoke at my shoulder.

"'Tis a relief to see even one soldier present ready for duty."

I turned to look into a pair of steady blue eyes, with a bit of mocking
laughter in their depths, the face revealed clearly in the glare of the
rockets.

"Necessity only," I managed to reply. "I can be as gorgeous as these
others, had I brought a bag with me."

"No doubt; every British regiment tries to outdo the others in ribbons,
and gold lace. Really they become tiresome with such foppery in war
times. See how they play to-night, like children, the city practically
unguarded from attack," she waved an ungloved hand toward the dark
without. "I venture there are men out yonder, sir, who are not dancing
and laughing away these hours."

My cheeks burned.

"You mean Washington's troops?"

"Aye! I saw them here in Philadelphia before Sir William came," her voice
lowered, yet earnest, "and they are not playing at war; grim, silent,
sober-faced men, dressed in odds and ends, not pretty to look at; some
tattered and hungry, but they fight hard. Mr. Conway was telling us
yesterday of how they suffered all winter long, while we danced and
feasted here, Washington himself sleeping with the snow drifting over
him. You do not know the Americans, for you are not long across the
water, but they are not the kind to be conquered by such child's play as
this."

"You are an American then?"

"By birth, yes," unhesitatingly. "We are of those loyal to the King,
but--I admire men."

It was with an effort I restrained my words, eager to proclaim my
service, yet comprehending instantly that I dare not even trust this
plain-spoken girl with the truth. She respected the men, sympathized with
the sacrifices of Washington's little army, contrasted all they endured
with the profligacy of the English and Hessian troops, and yet remained
loyal to the King's cause. Even as I hesitated, she spoke again.

"What is your regiment?"

"The 42nd British Foot."

"You have not yet been