ead
down in her mother's lap with a sigh of content. "I don't believe that
any other girl ever had so dear a mother as thou art."

Mrs. Owen laughed softly.

"I wonder what Sally is thinking," she said.

CHAPTER XVIII

HEROD OUT HERODED

"But what is life?
'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air,
From time to time, or gaze upon the sun;
'Tis to be Free. When Liberty is gone,
Life grows insipid and has lost its relish."

--_Addison's "Cato."_

"Is thee nearly ready, Peggy? Robert should be here soon with the
wagons."

"Yes, mother." Peggy ran to the head of the broad staircase to answer
Mrs. Owen's call. "There are but few more things to pack. Sally is
helping me."

"That is well, my daughter. Only----"

"Only let our fingers work while our tongues fly?" completed the girl
merrily. "We will, mother dear. Does thee hear, Sally?"

"I hear," laughed Sally as Peggy reentered the chamber. "I think thee
is the one to heed, miss. I am as busy as can be." She worked
industriously on the portmanteau for a few moments, and then looked up
to say, "I am glad that thee is going to ride Star, Peggy."

"So am I," answered Peggy as she donned her riding habit. "Father
wrote that there are some excellent roads about Lancaster, and that,
as he had a good mount, we might have some fine rides together. It
will be quite like old times. I wish thee was going, Sally."

"Well," hesitated Sally, "I would like to be with thee, Peggy, but I
should not like to leave mother again. I am glad to be home, and quite
content to stay here for a time. But I shall miss thee, Peggy.
Particularly as Betty is to leave so soon."

"Betty to leave? Why, where is she going? I had not heard. She was
here yesterday, and she said not a word anent going away." Peggy
paused in her dressing, and regarded Sally inquiringly.

"She told me to tell thee, because she could not bear to," replied
Sally, her tears beginning to fall. "Oh, Peggy, our Social Select
Circle will soon be no more. Betty is going to marry her Frenchman,
and go to France. She said that she would write thee all the
particulars."

"Oh, Sally, Sally! How we shall miss her! Why, how can we get along
without her?"

"We can't." Sally closed the portmanteau with a vicious snap. "I never
did care much for the French alliance, and I think less of it than
ever now."

"Sally, thee won't do anything of the kind, will thee?" as