y descended the stairs. A chorus of "Good-mornings"
greeted them as they entered the living-room. Mrs. Ashley, who was
just putting breakfast on the table, glanced at them smilingly.

"You are both as bright as the morning," she remarked approvingly.
"'Tis no need to ask how ye slept. Truly your experience of yesterday
doth not seem to have weighed upon you as I feared it would."

"And how I did sleep!" exclaimed Sally. "The bed was so downy that
Peggy had hard work to make me get up. What virtue does thee give thy
feathers, Mistress Ashley, to make them bestow so sound a slumber?"

"Methinks any bed would have served the purpose when you were so
fatigued, child," answered the hostess, pleased nevertheless by the
girl's tribute to her feathers. "Nevvy, will you find places for the
girls at the table?"

"Certainly, Aunt Mary." Fairfax placed the chairs around the table,
then drawing out two of them, turned toward the maidens, his face
flushing at the necessity of addressing them, his whole manner
betokening the diffidence that beset him. With demure looks but
twinkling eyes the girls awaited his next words eagerly. "Have these
chairs," he said.

An irrepressible giggle came from Sally. Peggy bit her lips to keep
back her laughter, and cast down her eyes quickly. The youth had
included both in his speech, and, during the meal that followed, his
few remarks were characterized by a like impartiality. When at length
all were in the sleigh bound for the meeting-house at Freehold both
girls were bubbling over with mischief.

"What spirits you two are in this morning," observed Nurse Johnson.
"Do tell us the fun."

"'Tis thy son," explained Sally in a whisper. "We want to see which
one of us he addresses singly, because we both named the same bedpost
after him, and 'tis the only way to decide our fate. He won't speak to
either of us alone," she ended plaintively.

Nurse Johnson laughed heartily, well knowing that these girls liked
her boy, and that such teasing as they indulged in was partly girlish
fun, and partly a desire to cure him of his bashfulness.

"What a thing it is to be young," she commented almost enviously.
"Mary, did we ever do such things?"

"As naming bedposts, do you mean, Hannah? Truly. Many and many a post
have we both named."

"And how did it turn out?" asked Sally eagerly. Before the lady could
reply Peggy spoke suddenly:

"Why do thy husband and Fairfax carry their muskets?" she inquired
w