“H-u-s-h!” and Peter looked fearfully around.  “I don’t dare say, but I’m sure he’s true and steady.  Betty, I wish I was a little taller; if I were I’d run away some fine morning and go for a drummer boy with General Washington.”

Betty looked up with affectionate eyes at the sturdy urchin.  “I know how you feel, Peter; but wait a bit.  It’s sad and disheartening enough now, God knows, but perhaps better days may dawn for the patriots.  My father says we must keep up our hearts as best we can, and trust in God and the Continental Congress.  Did I tell you how we moulded the bullets last summer?  We kept the tally, and over forty-two thousand cartridges were made from the statue of King George, so the women of Litchfield have contributed their aid to the cause in good practical fashion."’

“Aye, that was fine!  It must have been jolly fun, too.”

“It was very hot,” said Betty, laughing; “we tried it in our big kitchen, but finally had to melt the lead in larger kettles hung over a crane in the shed down in orchard.  Aunt Euphemia thought we would fire the house, and for many nights Miss Bidwell and she, protected by Reuben with a lantern, paraded the place before closing up, hunting for stray sparks which she fancied might fly in the wrong direction.”

“What a lot this hamper holds,” said Peter, diving down into it.  “You’ve made enough wreaths to decorate the rooms, I’m sure, and your hands are getting black.”

“Never mind my hands; soap and water will cleanse them.  Clarissa wants a ‘real English Christmas,’ she said, and poor dear! she shall have it.  It does my heart good to see her brighten and glow like her old pretty self.”

“You can thank Captain Yorke for putting the ‘real English Christmas’ into her head; there’s a fine Tory for you, Betty.  Sometimes I forget he’s one of our foes—­he’s almost nice enough to be a patriot.”

“He thinks he is one, Peter; he owes his loyalty to his king, and were less than a man not to give his services where ordered.”

“Ha, ha!” quoth Peter teasingly; “you’ll be as bad as Kitty presently.”

“How so?” returned Betty, biting her lip as she turned her face away from Peter’s roguish eyes.

“Why, Kitty had a walk-over course with the scarlet coats until you came, and Captain Yorke was one of her gallants.  But now I find him at your elbow whenever you give him half a chance.  But I’ve seen you snub him well, too; you girls are such changeable creatures.  I’d not have a scarlet coat dancing around after me if I were you, Betty;” and Peter endeavored to look sage and wise as he cocked his head on one side like a conceited sparrow.  What reply Betty might have made to his pertness was uncertain, but at that moment both doors of the room opened and Clarissa entered by one as Kitty flew in the other.

“How industrious you are,” cried Kitty, as she bade them all good-day; “the rooms will be a bower of green, such as Captain Yorke tells about.  I came, Clarissa, to beg a note of invitation for Peggy Van Dam.  She has but just returned from Albany, and will be mightily pleased to be bidden to your card-party.”