“Betty, Betty,” called Moppet’s voice from the upper path, “do come in if you and Oliver have finished your chat, for Miss Bidwell desires your opinion on some weighty matter connected with our journey to New York.”

“I will come,” answered Betty; then turning bank with, as careless an air as she could summon, “Do you happen to have heard aught of your quondam prisoner, Captain Yorke?”

“Yorke!” replied Oliver, avoiding her eye as be stooped to throw a stick from the path,—­“Yorke! oh, aye, I did hear that he was invalided and went home several months ago.  I fancy it was not so much his health (for he looked strong enough to my thinking the last time I met him) but more his disgust with the turn things were taking; for you know, Betty, since the surrender at Yorktown the British have been more insolent and overbearing than ever, and Yorke is too much a gentleman, no matter what his political color, to be dragged into quarrels which I hear are incessant in the city, and the cause of many duels.”

“Duels!” cried Betty, as the color left her checks; “oh, I hope he—­that is—­I hope nobody whom I know has been engaged in one.”

“Not I,” returned Oliver, with a mischievous glance.  “So you might even be sorry for a foe, eh, Betty?” But Betty went flying up the path and did not deign to reply.

Miss Moppet, childlike, was perfectly overjoyed at the prospect of a wedding in which she was to play a part, and flew from her aunt to Miss Bidwell and Betty, then back to her aunt again in a twitter of excitement at the combination of a journey and festivity as well.  General Wolcott’s letter to his sister was full of important news.  As the seat of Congress was Annapolis, General Wolcott, who was a member of that body, had decided to close the manor house for the winter and take a house in New York for his family, and he sent minute and particular directions for leaving all home affairs in the hands of Miss Bidwell and Reuben until their return to Litchfield in the spring.  Oliver’s intended marriage had hastened this decision, and there would be barely time to settle matters and reach New York in season for the wedding.  They were to stop with Clarissa, who had written most pleading letters, and after that visit would take possession of their new quarters.

Most of the afternoon was spent in plans for their journey, with Oliver as escort, and many a sigh rose almost to Betty’s lips as these recalled that other journey when her heart had been as light as Moppet’s was now.  But she put all thought aside with a resolute heart, and finally receiving directions from Miss Euphemia in regard to a chest of winter clothing packed safely away in the garret, she concluded to give Moppet’s restless hands some occupation, and bade the child accompany her upstairs.

The old garret looked familiar enough.  Even the wooden stools which had served as seats for her and Sally Tracy in the old childish days stood in the same corner under the dormer window, through which the sun was even now pouring its setting rays.  The chest was unlocked, and presently a goodly pile of clothing lay upon the floor ready to be carried below.