to her one of the most
natural and most reasonable things in the world that Andrew should marry
her when his parents strongly desired it. In her estimation it was an
absolute sin for him to go against the opinion of the brethren and
become a soldier. Yet she was willing to forgive it all and help lead
him back in the right way.

It was but justice that Penn should be rewarded for his care and
patience. She had not expected so much, but Aunt Lois, left to her
charge, would surely have some influence over him, and now that peace
was likely to be declared he would return, and his old home might be
dear to him. So she would not give up hope, but she did give up her
foolish jealousy of Primrose. She had the girl's solemn promise, but
what comforted her more than all was the rumor of young Wharton being
quite devoted to the girl.

What a summer it was to Primrose! They were out at the farm, but matters
were much more quiet. The young women who had been so gay and
entertaining were mostly married, and Madam Wetherill was very much
engrossed with business matters. She found Philemon Henry very
clear-headed. And as he came to know more about the Colonies, and the
causes that led to the rebellion, he found there was more injustice on
the side of England, but that even there they had not all been of one
mind.

So he was being gradually Americanized, though he and Primrose still had
disputes. But Polly had such a fascinating fashion of sometimes turning
an argument against Primrose, or picking a weak place in hers until one
could not help seeing it. And then Primrose would fly into a pretty
ruffle of temper with both of them, and presently suffer herself to be
coaxed around.

"I suppose I am like April," she said ruefully one morning, when she and
Polly had had a disagreement. They were staying at the farm, and the day
before they had all been up to Valley Forge, and climbed up the hill and
down again. In the early morning both of the young men had gone down to
the city.

"Do you think it really can influence anyone?" she inquires with
charming gravity. "Then I should suppose a person born in July, under
scorching suns, would be fiery-tempered."

"Do you know of anyone born in July?"

"Why, yes," laughing in a dainty fashion. "Betty for one, and she is
sweet and good-humored; and there is Cousin Andrew."

"Then the sign does not hold good."

"I don't know where I could have gotten all my temper from. Mamma was
lovely,