st
betwixt us, either, although I owe much to her for rescuing me from an
exceedingly embarrassing position. She would not let me thank her
because, she informed me, that what she did was for Peggy. Now what
doth she want, Peggy?"

"She wants to see how Clifford fares, John. Thee is kind to him, I
know."

"I do all that I can, Peggy, because he is your cousin. I'd do much
more if he would allow me. You know he never liked me, and he would
actually deprive himself of necessities if he had to receive them at
my hands."

"Will thee let us see him, John?"

"Certainly. We are not very rigid. We keep a strict guard to prevent
escape, but otherwise we give the prisoners many privileges. I will
speak to your mother now, and Harriet."

A cloud came to Robert Dale's brow as he heard Mrs. Owen say:

"John, dear lad, if thee can get away from duty why not get inside
with us, and go on to the house? Then we shall all be together once
more."

"Thank you, madam," answered Drayton with alacrity. "I was hoping that
you would ask me. I shall be pleased."

"I did not know that Captain Drayton was so well known to your family,
Peggy," remarked Robert with some stiffness.

"Why, we have known him for years, Robert," replied Peggy. "Doesn't
thee like him?"

"He is one of the most daring, dashing, reckless officers in the
service, Peggy. Whenever there is anything of an especially dangerous
nature to be done, John Drayton is the first fellow to be named in
connection with its performance. I have always had a high regard for
him. At least until----" He paused in some confusion.

Peggy laughed out suddenly, and a sparkle of mischief came into her
eye.

"At least until thee found that we knew him well. Is that it? What
unworthy people we must be that the mere knowing us would render him
unfit for thy regard."

"Now, Peggy," he began protestingly, then he too laughed. "I am the
unworthy one," he acknowledged humbly. "I did feel a pang that you
people should know him so well, and I not know it."

"Fie, Robert! As though we had not room in our hearts for many
friends. Each hath his own peculiar nook, and thou hast thine."

CHAPTER XX

A SLIGHT EMPHASIS ON "THAT"

"Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace,
That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish,
Beyond comparison, the worst are those
Which to our folly or our guilt we owe."

--_John Strange Winter._

"And you will take