splay and
his position in regard to the Declaration of Independence. Why not make
her his bride?

She possessed physical charms and graces in a singular degree. She
dressed with taste; her wardrobe was of the finest. Aristocratic in her
bearing, she would be well fitted to assume the position of the first
lady of the town. Peggy, moreover, possessed a will of her own. This was
revealed to him more than once during their few meetings, and if proof
had been wanting, the lack was now abundantly supplied. She would make
an ideal wife, and he resolved to enter the lists against all suitors.

Her mind was more mature than her years, he thought. This he gleaned
from her animated discussion of the alliance. And there was, after all,
more than an ounce of wisdom in her point of view. Mischief brewed in
the proposed help from a despotic power. His own signal victory ended
the war if only the Colonists would enter into negotiations or give an
attentive ear to the liberal proposals of Lord North. The people did not
desire complete independence and he, for one, had never fully endorsed
the Declaration. Her point of view was right. Better to accept the
overtures of our kinsmen than to cast our lot with that Catholic and
despotic power.

His musings were arrested by the arrival of an aide, who announced that
he was needed at headquarters. He arose at once to obey.

CHAPTER IV

I

Stephen awoke late the next morning. As he lay with eyes closed, half
asleep, half awake, the image of his partner of the evening sweetly
drifted into his dreamy brain, and called up a wealth of associations on
which he continued to dwell with rare pleasure. But the ominous
suggestion that her heart could not possibly be free, that perhaps some
gay officer, or brilliant member of Howe's staff, or a gallant French
official, many of whom had now infested the town, was a favored
contestant in the field, filled his mind with the thoughts of dread
possibilities, and chased away the golden vision that was taking shape.
He sat upright and, pulling aside the curtains of the little window that
flanked his bed, he peered into the garden behind the house. The birds
were singing, but not with the volume or rapture which is their wont in
the early morning. The sun was high in the heavens and flung its
reflecting rays from the trees and foliage; whence he concluded that the
morning was already far advanced and that it was well past the hour for
him to be as