to call him Lafayette!"
and Winifred laughed, as if she thought the idea very funny.

"Why, I think that is splendid!" Ruth replied, her blue eyes shining at
the thought of a "Lafayette" next door to her own home. For all the
children of Philadelphia knew the story of the brave young Frenchman,
hardly more than a boy himself, who had left all the comforts of his
Paris home to share the danger and privations of the American soldiers.
He had visited Philadelphia the previous summer, 1777, soon after his
arrival in America. Gilbert had seen the handsome young officer, and
ever since then he had pleaded that he might be called "Lafayette"
instead of Gilbert.

"If I were a boy I should wish my name 'Lafayette,'" declared Ruth. "I
wish we could do something for him, don't you, Winifred?"

"Yes; but what could two little girls do for him? Why, he is a hero, and
a friend of Washington's," Winifred responded. Neither Ruth nor
Winifred imagined that it would be only a few months before one of them
would do a great service for the gallant young Frenchman.

CHAPTER III

RUTH VISITS GENERAL HOWE

Aunt Deborah was unusually quiet in her manner toward her little niece
when Ruth came home with the cardboard ready to be covered. She did not
ask Ruth to set the table for supper, but began to spread the cloth
herself.

"I will do that, Aunt Deborah. You know I always do," Ruth said, laying
down the parts for the dolls' chair, and coming toward the table.

"I will do it. Thou mayst go to thy room, Ruth; I will call thee when
supper is ready," Aunt Deborah replied, without a glance at the little
girl.

Ruth felt her face flush uncomfortably as she suddenly recalled the way
in which she had spoken to Aunt Deborah after her aunt had led her away
from the porch where the English soldiers were sitting, and where Ruth
was sure Hero was hidden. She went up the stairs very slowly to her own
chamber, a small room opening from the large front room where Aunt
Deborah slept. She sat down near the window, feeling not only ashamed
but very unhappy.

"If my mother were only here I shouldn't be sent off up-stairs. I don't
like Aunt Deborah," she exclaimed, and looked up to see her aunt
standing in the doorway.

For a moment the two looked at each other, and Ruth could see that Aunt
Deborah was trying very hard to keep back the tears. Then the door
closed, very softly, and Ruth was again alone.

"Oh, dear," she whispered, "and I pr