ions. The elder people might solace themselves with card-playing,
but the younger ones wanted a different kind of diversion.

The old Southwark Theater was opened under the attractive title of
"Academy of Polite Science." Here a grand ovation was given to General
Washington, "Eugenie," a play of Beaumarchais, being acted, with a fine
patriotic prologue. The young women were furbishing up their neglected
French, or studying it anew, and the French minister was paid all the
honors of the town. The affection and gratitude shown the French allies
were one of the features of the winter.

Philemon Henry was proud enough of his pretty sister, and the still
fine-looking grand dame Mrs. Wetherill. Then there was piquant Polly
Wharton with her smiles and ready tongue, and even Andrew Henry was
recreant enough to grace the occasion, which seemed to restore an
atmosphere of amity and friendly alliance.

There was more than one who recalled the gay young Andre and his
personations during the liveliest winter Philadelphia had ever known.

Dancing classes were started again, and the assemblies reopened. Many of
the belles of that older period were married; not a few of them, like
Miss Becky Franks, had married English officers, and were now departing
for England since there was no more glory to be gained at war, and these
heroes were somewhat at a discount.

There were many young patriots and not a few Southerners who had come up
with the army, for Philadelphia, though she had been buffeted and
traduced, had proved the focus of the country, since Congress had been
held here most of the time; here the mighty Declaration had been born
and read, when the substance was treason, and here the flag had been
made; here indeed the first glad announcement of the great victory had
been shouted out in the silent night. So the old town roused herself to
a new brightness. Grave as General Washington could be when seriousness
was requisite, he had the pleasant Virginian side to his nature, and was
not averse to entertainments.

Gilbert Vane had returned with the soldiers, and ere long he knew his
friend was in the city; for Major Henry said the brother of Primrose was
almost a daily visitor at Madam Wetherill's.

"And still a stout Tory, I suppose, regarding me as a renegade?" Vane
ventured with a half smile.

"He has changed a great deal. Primrose, I think, lops off a bit of
self-conceit and belief in the divine right of kings, at every
in