A Little Girl in Old Philadelphia - Amanda Minnie Douglas (freda ebook reader TXT) 📗

lookout?"

"He hath a shrewd mind and far sight. And I would not render him liable to trouble. I think I could manage that way. Oh, madam, I ought to be with those brave fellows whom nothing disheartens. The general's wife hath left her pleasant, peaceful home to share his hardships. It is _my_ country."

"Wait a little and be patient. It is a pity this fine cousin is on the wrong side. It would amuse thee to hear Primrose dispute with him. Now I trust thee to get this gold thither."

"Thank thee a hundred times for them. There are many loyal hearts in town, as I well know."

"And many disloyal ones. It angers me. Come in some time. Primrose will be overjoyed to see thee. She is growing tall fast, too fast for my pleasure. I would fain keep her a little girl."

"I am jealous of my cousin," declared Captain Nevitt coming out to them with the air of a spoiled boy. "When wilt thou give me a confidence?"

"All the way home," she answered readily. "And I have so many good points I think I shall bet on the next race. How many of you will ride?"

"Why do we not have some hunts?" he asked eagerly. "If there is no fighting there must be diversion."

They mounted the ladies and rode up to the door of the cottage to say good-by.

"I shall dream of thee to-night," Faith whispered to Primrose.

The wind blew up colder and sharper. They were glad to get home. There was a slight fall of snow and everything was frozen up hard enough to last all winter.

The streets seemed merrier than ever. All the creeks were frozen solid, it seemed, and the Schuylkill was a sparkling white band, winding about. Skating had broken out into fashion, and the prettiest belles of the day were out with trains of military men at their beck. The river banks would be lined with spectators, who envied, criticised, and carped. Women were muffled up in furs and carried huge muffs, their wide hats tied down under their chins with great bows, some wearing the silken mask, in much the fashion of a veil, to protect their skins from frosty touches. The skaters, in skirts that betrayed trim and slender ankles, spun along like a whirl of the wind, or with hands crossed with a partner, went through graceful rocking evolutions, almost like a waltz.

The scarlet uniforms of the officers made a brilliant pageant. It was indeed a winter long to be remembered, and recalled with keen relish when the British, with lovers and friends, had flown.

Captain Nevitt had insisted upon taking his sister out, as Primrose was a very fair skater, and, under his tuition, improved wonderfully. She looked so pretty in her skating dress with her soft, yellow hair flying in the wind, and her lovely face half hidden in her hat, to be revealed like a vision at the various turns.

Nevitt had been taken on General Howe's staff for the present. Foiled in his endeavor to call out Washington by any maneuver, and feeling that another battle was quite impossible and useless in the extreme cold, which was more bitter than for years, he too, gave himself over to diversion, and looked leniently on the frivolities of his officers and the ruder dissipations of his men.

The most fascinating game on the ice was skating after a ball. A man called the hurlie propelled half a dozen balls along with a long, sharp-pointed stick, between two given points, often far enough apart to make a trial of speed and endurance. The fortunate one was he or she who caught a ball before it reached the goal, and then the merriest shout would ring out on the air.

A tall, fine-looking young fellow in civilian attire had captured two of the balls one afternoon and was flying at his most vigorous speed for another. Primrose had paused for a moment while her brother stopped to chaff a companion. The ball rolled swiftly along, and from some slight inequality in the ice deflected. The arm was outstretched to catch it, and she could not quite remember afterward whether she had stooped, but he came against her with sufficient force to knock her over. He caught the ball and held it up in triumph, with a joyous hurrah, and then turned to see what the oath and the exclamation meant.

"Good Heavens! you have killed her, you brute!" Captain Nevitt cried angrily.

"I was under such headway and I had no thought the ball would go in that direction. Let us see at once. Is she unconscious? Dr. Shippen is here. I passed him not ten seconds ago. I will find him."

Nevitt took Primrose in his arms, limp and white as a lily. There was a little circle about them, but the others went on with their gayety. A fall was no such uncommon thing.

Dr. Shippen had been out for a little exercise, and withal had some curiosity to see the mad carnival that had broken out in the staid city.

"Ah, it is Madam Wetherill's little girl!" looking sharply at Nevitt.

"I thought I had seen the child somewhere," said the young man who had caused the accident. "Can we not take her home at once?"

"I am her brother," was Nevitt's stiff reply. "You have done enough mischief with your awkwardness. I hope your silly victory repays you. Let me pass, with no further parley on your part."

"What do you think, Dr. Shippen?"

"It is a faint, of course. Whether she is more severely injured I cannot tell. Let us take her home, for she will be chilled through, and I have an errand in Second Street."

The doctor sat down on a stump to unbuckle his skates. Nevitt had taken his off a few moments before, but Primrose had begged that they might skate all the way down.

"Can I do nothing to assist?" asked the other.

"Go on with your prize-winning," said the captain haughtily. "You may run over someone else if you have good luck."

"You British think you own the town and can order us about like slaves!" was the fiery reply.

"Tut! tut! Wharton! Don't get into a fight. You are hotheaded."

"I will not be insulted by any interloper, even if he wears a red coat." Wharton's face was flushed with anger, and his eyes sparkled with passion.

"Where will a note reach you?" Captain Nevitt was in a flame of anger as well.

"Come along at once! Allin Wharton, go over yonder and cool your temper talking to the pretty women. And if you are the child's brother, get along as fast as you can with her, and let us see what it amounts to. A fall like that is enough to knock the breath out of anyone."

Wharton did not attempt to follow them. They hurried on, Nevitt's anger giving him strength. He pressed his face against the cold, white one.

"Who was that boor?" he cried passionately. "If my sister is injured I shall half murder him!"

"If you are her brother then you are Philemon Henry's son, and he was a man of peace. I have had a great desire to see you, since your father was a good friend of mine. I heard you had come over, I must say on bad business. Here, this turn cuts off some distance, though we have been squared according to plummet and line; and then down here. Let me take the child. Is there no sign of returning animation?"

They reached the Wetherill house, and its mistress caught sight of them from the window.

"Oh, Dr. Shippen!" she cried in alarm.

"The child has had a fall. Take off her hat and coat. Now let me see!"

He laid her on the settle in the hall and began chafing her hands, and ordering some restoratives.

"Are you sure there are no bones broken?"

"Not quite. It really was not that kind of a fall. There, she is coming around. Now, Madam Wetherill, here is a pepper-pot of a young soldier that you must cool down with some soothing potions, and I will find the other firebrand. We won't have them shooting each other unless in up and down warfare."

"I think you will bear witness that I was insulted," declared Nevitt.

"And gave an insult. It is about even. No fighting, therefore. Dueling for trifles is cold-blooded murder. I ask it for your father's sake. My little dear, wake up from your nap."

"What is it?" Primrose said in a faint voice. "I feel queer." Then she lapsed into insensibility again.

"Take her upstairs if you will, please. And, doctor, what mystery is there about this mishap? How did it occur? Patty, come hither."

The child opened her eyes again and half smiled.

"She will do now, I think; her pulse is stronger. Here is a small injury; nothing worse than a sprain, I think. She was run down on the ice. Our town goes crazy over a trifle now. The wrist is bruised and sprained. Patty, if you are the owner of so useful a name, undress the child, but I think she hath no broken bones."

The men retired to the adjoining room while Patty alternately scolded and petted her young charge.

"I hope you will reconsider your threat," said the doctor. "There are too many good uses for life to throw it away foolishly. If you are a King's man your life belongs to him, and is not to be wasted in a fit of temper."

Philemon Nevitt flushed with a sense of shame. He had been hotheaded, unreasonable.

There was no serious injury, they found. The bruised wrist was to be bound up with the old-fashioned remedy of wormwood and hot vinegar. And to-morrow Primrose would be all right again.

"Do you know this Allin Wharton?" Nevitt asked of Madam Wetherill.

"I know his family well, only young people have such a way of growing up that one loses track of them. He cannot be more than twenty. And words between you ought not to lead to any serious matter. You should have kept better watch of Primrose in such a crowd."

"I think I ought," he admitted frankly. "And I was hasty." He recalled the fact that he had given the insult, and that the other had the right to seek satisfaction. In London duels were common enough.

But by great good fortune young Wharton called on Madam Wetherill the next morning to inquire about the mishap to Primrose and found her none the worse except a bandaged wrist.

"Is it really true that this fire-eating young captain is--what shall I say? A relative, since this pretty flower is your niece, is she not? And Polly was so taken with him, but for his red coat, that when I began to talk of him I found I had fallen into a hornets' nest. And now, Madam Wetherill, what shall I do? Some hot and hasty words passed between us. Can I safely show the white feather? For no doubt your captain is a fine shot, and, truth to tell, I have some other plans for my life. Since he is even half-brother to Miss Primrose I should not want to shoot him."

Primrose looked up with languid sweetness. She felt rather sore and inert from the shock.

"Why, were you going to shoot him?" she asked.

"We had some words. You know