hese cousins they talk about?"

"Yes, I must pay my respects to them. The days go so rapidly that one
does not get through half one's plans. I had no idea there was so much
interest in this old town of William Penn's. The winter will be a merry
one."

"It seems not much like war," returned Gilbert Vane thoughtfully.

The party at Madam Wetherill's was a most brilliant affair. It seemed as
if every conclave except the Continentals were represented. There were
staid Friends in the rich attire of the better class; some in drab,
others in coat and breeches of brown velveteen and silk stockings, and
the younger men with various touches of worldly gauds. There were other
citizens in the picturesque attire of the day, with embroidered satin
waistcoats, powdered hair, and side rolls beside the queue, lace ruffles
and gold lace and gold buttons.

And the belles were not to be outdone by the beaux. There were gowns of
almost every degree of elegance, in brocades and glistening satins,
wrought with roses or silver thread, turned back over beautiful
petticoats. Gowns of Venise silk and velvet, with elbow sleeves and
ruffles of rich lace, and square corsages filled in with stiffened lace
called a modesty fence, through which the younger girls ran a narrow
ribbon that was tied in a cluster of bows.

The hair was worn high on the head, with puffs and rolls held in place
with great gilt or silver pins, and an aigrette nodding saucily from the
top. The elder women had large caps of fine and costly material. Few
were brave enough to go without, lest they might be accused of aping
youthfulness. There were fans of white, gray, and lavender silk,
bordered with peacocks' eyes, and their fair owners needed no Japanese
training to flirt with them.

There had been numerous discussions about Primrose. Her brother longed
to see her attired quite as a young lady.

"Nay, they grow up fast enough," protested Madam Wetherill. "And there
will be a host of town beauties to whom you must pay court, who would be
jealous of such a chit and think her forward."

"But she dances so beautifully. I can never be grateful enough that you
have had her so well instructed, and brought up a churchwoman. And
really she must dance. Lieutenant Vane is almost as much smitten with
her as I am."

"The more need for me to be careful, then."

"Nay, I shall guard her well, for I want to take her to England
fancy-free, so that she may have her pick among titles. S