."

"I'm not sure," Primrose declared with dainty hesitation, "whether I
want to go or not. I am certain, Phil, I shall be a worse rebel than
ever, afterward."

"Nay, Primrose, when you see the gallant gentlemen who have come over to
help the King restore peace and order, and punish some of the
ringleaders, you will be convinced of the great mistake the Americans
have made. And then we shall be friends again."

"I wish you were all going back to England with General Howe!"

"And you give me up so easily--your own brother?" with a pathetic
upbraiding in his tone.

"Only a half-brother! And the Tory half I can't like. The other, the
Henry half----"

"Well----" studying her mischievous, dancing eyes.

"I like that--a little," demurely.

"I shall be patient, sweet darling. I have come to love you dearly--your
mother's half, and your father's half."

She glanced up with her warm, frank heart shining in her eyes, and he
kissed her fondly.

"When thou lovest me well I shall know it by one sign: thou wilt kiss me
of thy own accord."

She had to steel her heart hard when he adopted the old phraseology, and
smiled in that beseeching manner.

"We shall not be converted, little Primrose," said Polly Wharton. "I
shall think of Allin at Valley Forge, and thou of thy splendid Quaker
cousin that so adroitly escaped the snare set for him. And we shall
twist the festivities about. When they drink to the King and the redcoat
army, we shall say to ourselves, 'Washington and the buff and blue.' And
when we dance, for there will be your brother and young Vane and Captain
Fordham, so we are sure of three partners, and as we whirl around we
shall say to ourselves 'Hurrah for the flag of the thirteen colonies!'"

"It looks quite patriotic that way," answered Primrose archly.

It ended by their going. Mrs. Stuart and Sally, who were hardly Whig or
Tory, promised to keep watch of them. And though Miss Auchmuty had been
crowned Queen of Beauty at the tournament, and there were the fair
Shippen women and the Chews, men paused to look at the sweet,
golden-haired child who was so simply gowned that her dress did not
detract from her beauty. And long afterward, when she was an old lady,
she could recount the famous scene that ended, as one might say, the
British possession of Philadelphia. For even as they danced amid the
gleaming lights and fragrant flowers, a premonition of what was to come,
although unexpected, and a bloodless vic