found him sitting under the tree where poor old grandmother had
spent so many of her days.

"Always? Why, I suppose so. Children generally follow in the footsteps
of their fathers."

"Is that because you are a man?"

"I like _thou_ better," smiling and putting his arm about her.

"But I am only half a Quaker. Do you think my father truly meant me to
be? There is a fine picture of him at Mr. Northfield's that is said to
be worth a great deal of money, and was made in England by a great man,
and is sometime to go over again. Did you know I had a brother, Andrew?"

"Yes."

"It seems very unreal. A letter came one day from him, and he asked if
there were any other children alive. A brother! How strange it sounds!
Why, it would be like Penn and Faith."

"I hope he may never want thee," with a little hug that made her head
droop on his shoulder.

"Oh, no; and if he does, he must come here. I should be afraid of the
great ocean that it takes days and days to cross. And I might be
drowned," plaintively.

"Then thou shalt never cross it."

"Thou wilt not let him take me away? Though I think Aunt Wetherill would
not consent."

"Nay, I would fight for thee."

"Then thou must fight for the country. It is _my_ country."

"If any need comes in thy behalf I will fight," he returned solemnly.

"And thou wilt put on some fine soldier clothes. The men all look so
handsome in their blue coats and buff breeches, and the hats turned up
in a three-cornered way."

She only saw the glory in it. He hoped she might never know the other
side.

"What art thou studying about so gravely?" when Primrose lapsed into
silence and let her small white hand lie in his brown one.

"I was thinking. Penn is here, and does your father need two sons? Aunt
Wetherill said, one day, that you were wasted on the farm, and that some
of the generals ought to have you for your cool clear head, and your
strength, and oh! I do not remember what else. And if you would come
into town----"

"If thou were older, Primrose, thou couldst tempt a man to his undoing.
But thou art a sweet, simple child. And when my country needs me she
will not ask about my faith. Already there is more than one Quaker
soldier in her ranks."

"Primrose!" Rachel had been sitting on the old stone step until there
seemed a curious fire kindled all through her body at the sight of the
golden head on the broad shoulder. "Primrose, come in. The dew is
falling."

"There is no