“Shall I lift it off the fire?” asked the young man, whose name was Francis Plunkett.

“Certainly,” said Miss Euphemia, inspecting the now tranquil kettle; “here are the moulds all greased; gently, now,” as she put a small ladle inside the pot; “now move it slowly, and put the pot here beside me on the table.”

“Will they really turn out bullets?” asked another girl in a whisper, as Sally Tracy moved a second big pot with the intention of hanging it on the fire, but was prevented by a tall, silent young man, who stopped his occupation of sorting out bits of lead to assist her.

“Thank you, Josiah,” said Sally.  “Turn out bullets, Dolly?—­why, of course, when they come out of the moulds.  What did you suppose we were all about?”

Dolly Trumbull (who was on a visit to the Wolcotts’) looked shy and somewhat distressed, and promptly retired into a corner, where she resumed her conversation with her cousin, Josiah Huntington; and presently Betty came flying into the kitchen, her gown tucked up ready for work, and full of apologies for her tardy appearance.  Sally Tracy, who was Betty’s sworn friend and companion in all her fun and frolics, pounced upon her at once; but Miss Euphemia called them both to assist her with the moulds, Betty had to reserve the story of her adventure until a more propitious moment.

“Has there been any news from Oliver when he set forth on this last expedition?” asked Dolly.

“It is too soon yet to hear,” said Josiah, “though possibly by to-morrow some intelligence may reach us.  Francis and I did not reach here from New Haven for four days, and we return there on Saturday.  As it was, I left only in obedience to my father’s command, and brought news of Lyon’s ravaging the city to General Wolcott, dodging Hessians and outlying marauders by the way.  Do you stop here long, Dolly, or will you have my escort back to Lebanon?”

“I came for a month,” answered Dolly; “I was ill of spring fever, and since then my mother thinks this mountain air benefits me.  But you go back to your duties at Yale College, though it’s early yet for them.”

“My students and I have spent our vacation handling cartridges,” said Josiah grimly, for he was a tutor at Yale, and had done yeoman service in the defense of New Haven. “’Tis a sorry sight to see our beautiful city now laid waste; but that our faith is strong in the Continental Congress and General Washington, I know not how heart could bear it.”

“Who speaks of faith?” said Pamela’s gentle voice, as she slipped into a chair on Dolly’s right.  “I think hope is ever a better watchword.”

“Aye,” murmured Huntington, as Dolly summoned courage to cross the room, “it is one I will carry ever with me, Pamela, if you bid me do so.”

“I did not mean,” faltered Pamela, casting down her dove-like eyes, but not so quickly that she did not see the ardent glance of her lover, “I—­that is—­oh yes, Aunt Euphemia,” with sudden change of tone, “it is growing somewhat dark, and we had better leave the moulds to harden.  Shall I tell Miss Bidwell that you are ready for supper?”