t him to kill Nevitt. And
before he could recover, though the next shot was aimed at me, someone
had struck your brother in the shoulder, and he fell. It was all done in
a moment, but there are so many near escapes. He was pretty badly hurt,
but Andrew managed that he should have the best of care. And they gained
nothing by their daring and we made a lot of prisoners. Before it was
over I was wounded, and that has put an end to my fun. But I am glad
Andrew was in at this great victory."

Primrose's eyes were shining with a kind of radiant joy. And yet, down
deep in her heart, there was a pang for her brother. Sometimes she was
vexed that he had not cared enough to write.

"But it seems--incredible!"

"It is a sort of miracle of foresight. The man at the head of it all is
wise and far-sighted and not easily discouraged. And Lady Washington, as
the men call her, is not afraid to follow the camp and speak a word of
cheer to the soldiers. We have been through many a hard time, some of
the others much more than I. But, if I could have chosen, I'd rather
been on the march and in the fight than lying here."

Primrose could not doubt it. A faint color had warmed up the face and
it looked less thin, and the eyes were full of enthusiasm. Something in
their glance made hers droop and an unexpected glow steal up in her
face.

"Andrew said he was your soldier, that you were so full of loyalty and
duty it inspired him. And don't you remember that you talked to me as
well? I don't see why I shouldn't be your soldier."

"Why--yes. You are." Then she blushed ever so much more deeply.

"And how brave you were that day when you assisted him to escape! Oh,
you can't think how delightful it was to talk of you when we were cold
and hungry and so far away from home! And all the shrewdness of Madam
Wetherill! How she won British gold and sent it or its equivalent out to
Valley Forge! Next summer we ought to make a picnic out there, and climb
up Mount Pleasant and go down Mount Misery with jest and laughter."

There was a whirl and a gentle stamping of some light feet on the
bearskin rug in the hall.

"Oh, Primrose! It is the most glorious morning the world ever saw! And
'tis a delight to see you here. It is Allin's first day downstairs, and
he thinks he has been defrauded, selfish fellow! He insists I shall tell
him everywhere I go and everybody I see, and, when I get it all related
minutely, he sighs like a wheezy bellows and thinks