en do."

He seemed to consider. "And thou dost know Andrew. Where is my son, and
why does he stay so? I want him at home."

"He is coming soon; any day, perhaps."

"Tell him to hasten. There is something--I seem to forget, but Mr. Chew
will know. It must be cast into the fire. It is a tare among the wheat.
Go quick and tell him. My son Andrew! My only and well-beloved son!"

Then he shut his eyes and drowsed off.

"He hath not talked so much in days. Oh, will Andrew ever come? What is
it thou must do?"

"He has started by this time. There are to be some officers in
Philadelphia, and General Washington is to come to consult with
Congress. They have had a sad bereavement in Madam Washington's only
son, who was ill but a short time and leaves a young family. And I will
not let Andrew lose a moment."

"Thank you, dear child," clasping her hands.

Faith was coming up from the barn with a basket of eggs.

"Oh, dear Primrose!" she cried, "I know Uncle James is dying. They will
not let me see him alone, and there is a great thing on my conscience.
Oh, if Andrew were only here!"

"He will be here shortly. Oh, Faith, not really dying!" in alarm.

"Yes, yes! Grandmother was something that way. To be sure it is little
comfort living. But I want to tell thee--Rachel has softened strangely,
and sometimes has a frightened, far-away look in her eyes and she
listens so when her uncle frets. Oh, if I were but twenty-one, and could
get away from it all! It is as if I might see a ghost."

"He wants to see Andrew. Something is to be cast into the fire. I wish I
knew."

"It was so quiet and no one was afraid when grandmother died. But this
is awesome. Oh, Primrose, I hate to have thee go."

"Faith! Faith!" called the elder sister.

Primrose went her way in a strange state of mind. Was there anything she
could do? She would ask Aunt Wetherill.

"Something is on his mind, surely. But whether one ought to take the
responsibility to see Mr. Chew, I cannot decide."

How long the hours appeared! Twice the next day she sent fleet-footed
Joe down to see if any soldiers had come in. And Madam Wetherill called
at the Attorney General's office to find that he was in deep
consultation with the Congress.

Just at the edge of the next evening there was a voice at the great
hall door that sent a thrill to her very soul. She sped out.

"Oh, Primrose--dear child----"

But she did not fly to his arms. Some deep inward consciousness
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