her marketing, which was no light
undertaking with all the trouble about paper money, and gold and silver
so scarce. She still rode her horse well, and time dealt very leniently
with her.

"I heard some strange news in the market place," she began, and then
she caught sight of Polly. "Oh, dear child! is it true that some of the
flower of our town have perished? It was a great surprise, to capture
some deserters, it was said, and went hard with our brave men."

"Nay, Lieutenant Henry won in the end, and our loss was nothing compared
to the enemy. But poor Allin----"

"He is not dead," added Primrose, when Polly's voice failed. "And,
madam, Cousin Andrew hath taken our heroic Colonel Nevitt a prisoner in
his first battle. I know not whether to rejoice or cry."

"Primrose, thou art a naughty girl!"

"If it had been the other way, I should have had no difficulty. Yes, I
am a hard-hearted little wretch and do not deserve any brother! But
Andrew will see that he is not treated as the poor fellows were in the
Walnut Street Jail; and if he should lose an arm or a leg I will devote
my life to him. Oh!" with a sudden burst of tenderness, "I hope it is
nothing serious. The mortification will be hard enough."

There were numbers of the wounded sent as soon as possible to the larger
cities where they could be cared for. Rough journeying it was, with none
of the modern appliances of travel, and many a poor fellow died on the
way.

For various reasons Madam Wetherill had not gone out to the farm as
usual. The news was troublesome from Virginia and Maryland, where Arnold
was destroying stores and laying waste plantations. The seat of war
seemed to be changing in this direction, and some of the most famous
battles were to be fought here. Cornwallis was fortifying, and everybody
dreaded the news.

Pleasure in town had slipped back to a more decorous aspect. There were
simple tea-drinkings and parties of young people going out on the river
in the early evening singing pretty songs. Or there were afternoon
rambles to the charming green nook called Bethsheba's Bath and Bower,
where wild flowers bloomed in profusion, and the copses were fragrant
with sweet herbs, growing wild; or the newly cut hay in the fields still
about. Sometimes they took along a luncheon and some sewing. There were
still windmills to grind the grain, and Windmill Island had been
repaired and was busy again.

Primrose seemed just beginning life. Hitherto she