e it with a ribbon. And her white muslin dress was
short and scant, just coming to her ankles and showing the instep of her
pretty clocked stockings. There were lace frills to her puffed sleeves,
and a lace tucker, with a pretty bow on one shoulder. But it seemed as
if she looked more beautiful than ever before.

Everybody made much of her. It appeared to be an easy road to Captain
Nevitt's heart. Even the handsome Major Andre, who had come because
Nevitt had talked so much about his little sister and Madam Wetherill,
and also because he was likely to meet some of the attractive young
women of the town, and "Primrose was like a little fairy for beauty, and
that her smiles were bewitching."

A very great time it was indeed. There were ombre and quadrille tables,
piquet and guinea points for the elders, while the black fiddlers in the
end of the hall inspired the feet of the younger portion. With the
dancing there were jest and laughter and compliments enough to give a
novice vertigo. Primrose was daintily shy and clung close to her
brother, of which he was very proud, as she had never shown him quite
such favor before.

Anabella Morris was setting up for a young lady, being nearly two years
older than Primrose. Mrs. Morris had taken a certain Captain Decker in
her house to lodge, who seemed very devoted to her daughter. She had not
succeeded in capturing a husband yet, but it seemed quite possible with
all this influx of masculines. The glowing and attractive description of
"Fairemount" given before, as a place "where no woman need go without a
husband," had not held good of late years.

The supper was in keeping with all the rest. There were solids in the
way of cold meats served up in various fashions, there were wines of all
kinds, and lighter refreshments of cake, floating islands, jellies,
whipped sillabubs, curds and cream, and all the delicacies in vogue.
There were healths drunk, toasts and witty replies, and, after a
complimentary mention of the hostess, someone asked whether that
pestilent old Quaker Samuel Wetherill was any relative, expressing
ironical regret that he was not present.

Madam Wetherill rose tall and stately, with the most courteous
self-possession.

"My husband and Mr. Samuel Wetherill's grandfather came from different
towns in old England, but there may have been some of the same blood in
their veins. And I think if my husband had espoused a cause he believed
right, and gave of his mean