Peggy Owen Patriot Part 8

[Ill.u.s.tration: "FRIEND-I SHOULD SAY-GENERAL ARNOLD"]

"Nay; call me friend, Miss Peggy. I like the name, and no man hath too many. At times I suffer much. At first I was in a very fever of discontent, 'twas so long in healing. I chafed under the confinement, for it kept me from the field. Of late, however, I have come to bear its tardiness in healing with some degree of patience."

"Mother thinks that as much bravery may be shown in endurance as in action," she observed shyly.

"More, more," he declared. "Action is putting into execution the resolve of the moment, and may be spurred by excitement or peril to deeds of daring. One forgets everything under its stimulus. But to be compelled to sit supinely when the liberties of the country are in danger--Ah!

that is what takes the heart out of a man. It irks me."

"Thee should not fret," she said with such sweet gravity that his worn dark face lighted up. "Thou hast already given so much for thy country that 'tis well that thou shouldst take thy ease for a time. Thee has been very brave."

"Thank you," he returned, his pleasure at her naive admiration being very apparent. Already there had been detractions whispered against his administration of the city, and the genuine appreciation of this little maid for his military exploits was soothing to him. "I know not how our talk hath become so serious," he said, "but I am a poor host to permit it. 'Tis not befitting a scene of pleasure. Wilt take tea with me, Miss Peggy?"

Peggy looked up quickly, thinking she had not heard aright. What! she, a simple young girl, to be taken to tea by so great a general! Mr. Arnold stood courteously awaiting her a.s.sent, and realizing that he had indeed bestowed the honor upon her, she arose, swept a profound curtsey, and murmured an almost inaudible acceptance.

There were little gasps of surprise from Sally and Betty, as she swept by them, but pride had succeeded to Peggy's confusion, and she did not turn her head. a.s.sured that never again would she be filled with such felicity Peggy held her head high, and walked proudly down the great drawing-room by Benedict Arnold's side.

'Twas customary in Philadelphia for the mistress of a household to disperse tea to guests, but the general having no wife pressed his military attaches into this duty. So overwhelmed was Peggy with the honor conferred upon her that she did not notice that her cup was filled again and again by the obliging servitor. She was recalled to herself, however, by an audible aside from Sally:

"And hath thy general plenty of Bohea in the house, Robert? 'Tis to be hoped so, else there will be none for the rest of us. That is Peggy's sixth cup, is it not?"

"Oh, dear!" gasped Peggy flus.h.i.+ng scarlet, and hastily placing her spoon across the top of her cup, for this was the proper mode of procedure when one had been served sufficiently. "I did not know, I did not think-in fact, the tea was most excellent, and did beguile me. Nay," she broke off looking at him bravely. "'Twas because I was so beset with pride to think that it was thou who served me that I forgot my manners.

In truth, the incident is so notable that I shall never forget it."

"Now, by my life, you should drink all there is for that speech though no one else were served," declared he laughing. "What! No more? Then we will see to 't that your friend hath cause for no further complaint. Do you read, Miss Peggy?"

From a small spindle-legged table that stood near, he selected a book from several which lay on its polished surface, and handed it to her.

"Pleasure me by accepting this," he said. "'Tis Brooke's 'Lady Juliet Grenville.' Most young ladies like it, and it hath more endurance than a cup of tea."

"Oh, thank thee! Thank thee!" cried she delightedly. "I have heard much of the tale, and have longed to read it. I shall truly treasure it."

"Would that my name were Margaret," cried Sally as General Arnold left her with her friends. "And what did thee do to merit all this honor, Miss Peggy?"

"I know not," answered Peggy regarding the book almost with awe. "Oh, girls! hath he not indeed been kind to me? 'Tis most wonderful how everything hath happened. How vastly delightsome town life is! I hope mother will go to every tea to which we are asked."

"And has thee had so much excitement that thee does not care for my secret?" asked Sally. "'Twas my purpose to declare it at this time."

"Do tell it, Sally," pleaded Peggy aroused by Sally's earnest tone.

"Thee promised."

"Yes, yes, Sally," urged Betty. "Do tell us."

"Then come close," said Sally motioning to Robert and Mr. Deering to draw nearer. "Know then, all of you, that to-morrow I am to begin to prepare for being a nurse in the General Hospital."

"Oh, Sally!" cried Betty and Peggy in a chorus.

"Yes," said she, enjoying their surprise. "Mr. Deering seems to have known it, and Robert here, but 'tis known to no others. I have been minded for some time to do something more than make socks and s.h.i.+rts, though they are badly needed, too, I hear."

"'Tis just splendid, Sally," declared Peggy. "But Betty and I must do something too. It will never do for thee to be the only one of us girls to do so well. What shall we do, Betty?"

"I fancy that my hands at least will be full," said Betty. "Mother thinks it advisable for me to take the smallpox as soon as she can spare me."

"La!" giggled Sally. "How will that help the country, Betty?"

"By preventing it from spreading," answered Betty, at which they all laughed.

The music struck up at this moment, and the talk which had threatened to become serious was interrupted. About eleven a genteel supper was served, and General Arnold's tea had come to an end.

CHAPTER VII-A SUMMER SOLDIER

"What, if 'mid the cannon's thunder, Whistling shot and bursting bomb, When my brothers fall around me, Should my heart grow cold and numb?"

But the drum Answered "Come!

Better there in death united than in life a recreant-come!"

-"The Reveille," Bret Harte.

"Mother, what did thee think of the tea?" asked Peggy of Mrs. Owen the next morning.

Lowry Owen laid down her sewing and turned toward her daughter gravely:

"'Twas an enjoyable occasion in many respects, my daughter. 'Twas most pleasant to meet with old friends, but--"

"Yes, mother?" questioned the maiden as the lady hesitated.

"There was so much of extravagance and expenditure in the costumes and even in the entertainment that I fear we cannot indulge often in such pleasures. Mr. Arnold"-calling him after the London manner, a fas.h.i.+on much in vogue at this time in the colonies-"must be a man of great wealth to afford such hospitality. I understand that 'tis extended often to his friends, and 'tis expected to some extent from a man in his position. But we are not wealthy now, my child, and I wish not to be drawn into a manner of life beyond our means."

"I know, mother," answered the girl soberly. "Last night I was carried away by the enjoyment of it all, and methought I would like naught else than teas, and routs and parties all the time. Didst think thy daughter could be so foolish?"

"'Twas very plain to be seen, my child," said the lady with a smile.

"And with thy father and others in the field it seems to me that thou and I may be employed to better purpose, Peggy? What does thee say?

Shall we give up a.s.semblies, tea drinkings and finery to patriotism, or wouldst thou rather--"

"Mother, thee knows that when 'tis a choice between such things and the country they must go," cried Peggy warmly.

"I knew that I could count on thy cooperation," observed Mrs. Owen quietly. "Thou shalt have thy young friends, Peggy, and shall share their pleasures, but we will have no more of public parade and ostentation. I like it not. 'Tis not befitting the wives and daughters of soldiers to indulge in such pastimes. And we shall be busy, Peggy. We must spin and weave."

"I do not mind the work, mother. Sally is to be a nurse, and I would not be happy could I not do something too."

And so the spinning-wheel was brought from the attic, and given a prominent place in the living-room. The loom was set up in the large kitchen, and from early morn until eight at night the girl spent the long hours of the day spinning and weaving. Other Whig women also, dismayed by the spirit of frivolity and extravagance that was rife in the city, followed their example, and the hum of the wheel and burr of the loom were heard in every household.

"Thou hast been spinning since five of the clock this morning, Peggy,"

remonstrated Mrs. Owen one afternoon. "Is thee not tired? How many skeins hast thou spun to-day?"

"I have lost count, mother," laughed Peggy. "It behooves me to be thrifty, else there will be no yarn to knit. And such heaps and heaps of unspun wool as there are! 'Tis no time to be weary."