to read me a lesson? Thou
art a stranger, met but a moment since. I listen to no lesson from
thee, Truelove Davis."

"And there spoke the Owen temper," came from the other severely.

Peggy turned toward her quickly.

"What know thee of the Owen temper?" she asked in amazement.

"Everything, Margaret. How hot and unruly it is. I well know how it
doth refuse advice, howsoever well meant. Thee should be sweet and
amiable, like me."

"Like thee?" Puzzled, perplexed, and withal indignant, Peggy could not
help retorting. "Will thee pardon me, Truelove, if I say that thy
amiability lacks somewhat of sweetness?"

"Nay; I will not pardon thee. Lack somewhat of sweetness indeed,
Mistress Margaret Owen! Does thee think thee has all the sweetness in
the family? Obstinate, perverse Peggy!"

With a cry Peggy sprang toward her.

"Thy face!" she cried. "Let me see thy face. 'Tis Harriet's voice, but
Harriet----"

"Is before you." The girl unclasped the mask and revealed the
laughing, beautiful face of Harriet Owen. "Oh, Peggy! Peggy! for a
Quakeress you did not show much meekness. So you would not take a
lesson from a stranger, eh? You should have seen your face when I
proposed it."

"But how did thee come here, Harriet? And why did thee assume this
dress?"

"Come sit down, and I'll tell you all about it," said Harriet, giving
her cousin a squeeze. "Don't be afraid, Peggy. I promise not to teach
any lesson. I should not dare to. But oh!" she laughed gleefully. "I
shall never forget how you looked. You'll be the death of me yet,
little cousin."

CHAPTER XIX

THE TURN OF THE WHEEL

"From every valley and hill there come
The clamoring voices of fife and drum;
And out in the fresh, cool morning air
The soldiers are swarming everywhere."

--_"Reveille," Michael O'Connor._

"But first, Harriet, do take off that bonnet, and let me see thee as
thou art really; with thy hair about thy face. So." Peggy reached over
and untied the bow as she spoke, then removed the prim little bonnet
from her cousin's head. "How beautiful thee is," she commented gazing
at the maiden with admiring eyes. "I think thee grows more so every
time I see thee. That bonnet doth not become thee."

Harriet shook back her chestnut ringlets, and laughed gaily. Her
wonderful eyes, dancing with mirth, were starry in their radiance.

"One would think that I did not make a good Quakeress, Peggy, to hear
you talk. Now c