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."
"I wondered if she would be in time," said Clarissa, seating herself at
her claw-legged, brass-mounted writing-table. "Has she changed much,
Kitty--not that I mean"--and Clarissa's sentence ended in a laugh.
"There was room for it," finished Kitty. "No, she is just the same:
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