gaze, and
felt her heart beat in strange protest.
"But--Andrew is well--is here----"
"We heard a part of the army had been retained, and a neighbor hath seen
Andrew Henry in the attire of the sons of cruelty and worldliness, and
that bitter spirit toward the law that Mr. Penn besought his brethren
not to use. But no one seems to heed duty or obedience any more."
Primrose stood gazing as if the voice held her in a half-frightened
thrall.
"He hath been here, in this house?"
"Yes, yesterday," with some hesitation.
"And he will come again?"
"Oh, yes!" There was a confident ring in her voice that angered the
other.
"The world and its sins hath grown greatly upon him. I will venture to
say he feels more at home amid these gauds and giddy flowered damasks
and soft cushions and numerous things the elect would term idols of the
carnal sort," glancing around. "And the vain women who frequent houses
like these. I see thou art tricked out with much worldly vanity, and thy
father was one of the straitest Friends. How canst thou do it?"
Primrose opened her eyes wide at this tirade and shook back the curly,
glistening hair that she did not yet wear high on her head, for Madam
Wetherill hated to have her leave the cloisters of girlhood. And her
frock was white muslin, lengthened down a little and the piece covered
with an artful ruffle. There was a silver buckle at her belt, and on
each shoulder a knot of blue ribbon.
She hardly knew what to say, but presently she ventured--"Truly, Cousin
Rachel, I do not feel vain. I seldom think of my gowns."
"I am in no mood to discuss attire," as if Primrose had begun it. "I
come to thee on an urgent errand. Thou knowest, perhaps, that Andrew
hath angered his father beyond everything. Instead of heeding the
admonition to come out from the world and have no part in its
wickedness, he hath all winter been a go-between, encouraging rebellion
by carrying supplies to the camp at Valley Forge----"
"It was noble and kindly to take a great danger upon himself, to feed
sick and starving men, and to clothe their poor bodies. It surely made
one's heart bleed to hear of their sufferings. Nay, thou shalt not say
hard and bitter things against him!" cried Primrose spiritedly.
"The truth is wholesome, if it hath a bitter tang. We surmised that he
found encouragement in this house, and had beforetime listened to thy
childish and unreasoning folly. And he made himself a criminal in the
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