Once Washington awoke, raised himself on his elbow, and listened intently.  But he could hear nothing but the deep breathing of his weary army.  The stars were brilliant.  He glanced about his immediate vicinity with a flicker of amusement and pleasure in his eyes.  The young men of his household were crowded close about him; he had nearly planted his elbow on Hamilton’s profile.  Laurens, Tilghman, Meade, even Lafayette, were there, and they barely had left him room to turn over.  He knew that these worshipping young enthusiasts were all ready and eager to die for him, and that in spite of his rigid formality they were quite aware of his weak spot, and did not hesitate to manifest their affection.  For a moment the loneliest man on earth felt as warmly companioned as if he were raising a family of rollicking boys; then he gently lifted Hamilton out of the way, and slept again.  He was bitterly disappointed next morning; but to pursue the enemy in that frightful heat, over a sandy country without water, and with his men but half refreshed, was out of the question.

The rest of the year was uneventful, except for the court-martialling of Lee and his duel with Laurens, who challenged him for his defamation of Washington.  Then came the eventful winter of 1779-80, when the army went into quarters at Morristown, Washington and his military family taking possession of a large house belonging to the Widow Ford.

V

“Alexander!” cried a musical but imperious voice.

Hamilton was walking in the depths of the wood, thinking out his financial policy for the immediate relief of the country.  He started and faced about.  Kitty Livingston sat on her horse, a charming picture in the icy brilliance of the wood.  He ran toward her, ripped off her glove, kissed her hand, replaced the glove, then drew back and saluted.

“You are a saucy boy,” said Miss Livingston, “and I’ve a mind to box your ears.  I’ve brought you up very badly; but upon my word, if you were a few years older, I believe I’d marry you and keep you in order, something no other woman will ever be able to do.  But I’ve a piece of news for you—­my dear little brother.  Betsey Schuyler is here.”

Alexander, much to his annoyance, blushed vividly.  “And how can you know that I have ever even seen Miss Schuyler?” he asked, rather sulkily.

“She told me all about it, my dear.  And I inferred from the young lady’s manner that she lived but to renew the experience.  She is down at Surgeon-General Cochraine’s.  Mrs. Cochraine is her aunt.  Seriously, I want you to be a good little beau, and keep her here as long as possible.  She is a great addition to our society; for she is not only one of the belles of the country, accomplished and experienced, but she has an amazing fine character, and I am anxious to know her better.  You are still too young to marry, mon enfant, but you are so precocious and Miss Schuyler is so charming—­if you will marry at your absurd age, you could not do better; for you’ll get fine parents as well as a wife, and I’ve never known a youth more in need of an entire family.”