th, and
on their own earnest appeal. Some officers resigned; among them Andrew
Henry, much to the regret of several of the generals.

"If the country needs me again I am hers to command," he said with much
earnestness. "But I feel that I am needed at home and there are others
who will be glad to fill my place. There are many brave privates who
would be made happy by the reward of promotion."

"He is a brave man," said Mrs. Washington, "which is sometimes better
than being a brave soldier. If the country had hundreds of such citizens
her prosperity would be assured. I am sorry to part with many of them,
but we shall all be glad of peaceful times and our own homes."

And so in the early autumn Andrew Henry came home and went back to his
Quaker costume.

"Really," declared Mr. Logan, "one might think the elder Philemon Henry
had come back to life. The nephew is more like him than the son, though
the son is a fine intelligent man and will make an excellent citizen.
Then he is a great favorite with Madam Wetherill, who has much in her
hands."

CHAPTER XXIII.

PRIMROSE.

With all the disquiet it had been an unusually gay summer for
Philadelphia, even after the General and Mrs. Washington had bidden it
adieu. For in June there had been a great fete given by the French
minister in honor of the birth of the Dauphin, the heir to the throne of
France. M. de Luzerne's residence was brilliantly illuminated, and a
great open-air pavilion, with arches and colonnades, bowers, and halls
with nymphs and statues, even Mars leaning on his shield, and Hebe
holding Jove's cup. It was seldom indeed that the old Carpenter mansion
had seen such a sight.

There were elegant women and brave men, though the Mischianza crowd had
been widely scattered. The girls had danced, and chatted in French as
far as they knew how, and enjoyed themselves to the full, and the elders
had sat down to an almost royal banquet. Polly and Primrose had been
among the belles.

Then there had been a grand Fourth of July celebration. A civic banquet,
with Morris, Dickinson, Mifflin, and many another. Bells were rung and
cannons fired, the Schuylkill was gay with pleasure parties and
fluttering flags and picnic dinners along its winding and pleasant
banks. And then in August they had most loyally kept the French King's
birthday with banquets and balls. And though financial ruin was largely
talked of, a writer of the times declares "No other city was so