washed his face and hands at the rustic out-of-doors
toilette, and little Casper, the black boy, brought him a thick linen
towel, with velvet-like softness and smelling of lavender. Then he must
have some home-brewed beer to refresh himself, and a plate of Janice
Kent's wafers, that were spicy and not over sweet and went excellently
well with the beer.

"Dost thou go often to the city?" Madam Wetherill asked. She was
thinking how finely this young Quaker was filling out in the shoulders,
how well set and soft his brown eyes were, and his cherry lips had fine
curves with resolution, yet a certain winning tenderness.

"I go in on market days, twice a week. These are stirring times. There
are arguments on every corner of the street, and men almost come to
blows."

"The blows may be needed later on. Thou art a peace man, I dare say."

"That is the belief in which I have been brought up," he answered
respectfully.

"And I was brought up to honor the King. But if a king listens to evil
rather than good counselors--kings were cut off in old times for not
dealing justly. I am sure Mr. Pitt hath given excellent advice, but it
has not been followed."

"I know so little about it," Andrew returned. "I went once to John
Bartram's for some rare cuttings my father desired, and met there the
great Franklin, who counseled peace and leniency in England. And they
all think now that nothing can stop the war."

"It hath begun already. We must decide which side we shall be on, even
if we do not fight. But come down here where smiling peace sits
gossiping with fair plenty. I wonder if next summer will give us such a
scene?"

She made a gracious little movement, and she took his arm as they began
to descend the sloping path. She was a very fascinating woman and now
she had resolved to do her best to win over those who stood in
uncertainty if she could not move the uncompromising Friend.

It was a pretty scene. After the slope was a level of beautiful sward,
with a circle of magnificent trees. Then another varying decline that
ended at the river's edge, where rocked two or three gayly painted
boats. There were two young fellows in the attire of the gallant of the
day lolling on the grass, and a young man in Quaker garb of the finest
sort, sporting silver buckles at his knee and on his low shoes.

The ladies were some of the beauties of Philadelphia, to be famous long
afterward. There was the pretty Miss Shippen and Becky Franks, not