A Little Girl in Old Philadelphia Part 49

The sun was speeding downward. It was a long walk home. Andrew Henry headed the procession with his cousin, and Vane followed with Betty, so it was Polly who had the two attendants, and Allin was rather out of humor.

Janice Kent had a birthday supper for them, but with the treat at Larch Alley, and, perhaps, some fatigue, they were not ravenous. Primrose sang for them and was bewilderingly sweet--Andrew thought, just as the day had been, full of caprices but ending in tender beauty. And then they drank her health and wished her many happy returns, bidding her a very fervent good-night.

There had been a good deal of enthusiasm about General Washington, and many very warm friends had sympathized deeply with Mrs. Washington in her sorrow. Plans of a new campaign had also been discussed. The city was sorry to relinquish its n.o.ble guests. Society had taken on an aspect of dignified courtesy; contending parties had ceased to rail at each other, and there was a greater air of punctilious refinement, that was to settle into a grace less formal than that of the old-time Quaker breeding, but more elegant and harmonious. A new ambition woke in the heart of the citizens to beautify, adorn, and improve. There was a stir in educational circles, and the library that had languished so long was making its voice heard. Peace was about to have her victory.

Andrew Henry was closeted a long while one morning with Madam Wetherill.

"I shall go to Newburgh with the General," he said, "but if there is to be no more war I shall resign my commission. That sounds almost like a martial declaration in favor of war, but it is not so. I was not meant for a soldier except in necessity. There are those whom the life really inspires, and who would be only too glad to fill my place. I could not step out with such a clear conscience if I were a private. And since you have been good enough, madam, to ask me about plans, I must confess that I have not gone very far in any. There are, no doubt, farms around that I could hire and make profitable, but my mother no longer has the strength and energy to be at the head of such a place. I have thought something might open here in the city that would enable me to make a home for her and myself; that is my ambition now. I do not feel that I ought to leave her to the care of my Cousin Rachel while she has a son of her own. True, her home is left to her there, but she is not compelled to stay in it."

"And Rachel may marry."

"I think she will. She is a smart and capable woman, but it is hard doing all things and managing alone; though now she and Penn have made up over a little coldness. He will till Faith's land for the present.

The greatest profit, the cherries, and one good orchard belongs to Rachel, so she is well to do. However, I want my dear mother with me, and by mid-summer I may return."

"I have been thinking somewhat about thee. There will be great changes in the town. Trade already is stirring up, and commerce will begin again when the restrictions are removed. But it is in the very heart of things where we may look for the greatest changes. There have been many years of doubt and hesitation, but now there is a great expanding of enterprise. James Logan and Mr. Chew were discussing it not many mornings since. The city must almost be made over, as one may say. I own a great deal of waste property, and plantations in Maryland. There is also considerable belonging to Primrose."

"But there is her brother, madam. The more I see of Philemon Henry the better I like him. He hath had a hard year, a year of great disappointment and mortification, and he comes out of it with more bravery than I supposed possible for one whose opinions have been so strongly the other way. Why not give him a helping hand?"

"You are very honorable, Friend Henry, and I respect you for it. Then,"

laughingly, "do you think you two could ever come to an agreement and be friendly as brothers if your interests were identical?"

"I could answer for myself," he said with respectful gravity.

"For many years the old house of Henry & Co. had an excellent standing.

Mr. Northfield was much the elder and it seemed as if he might go years the first, but he did not. Now he wishes to be relieved of all the affairs of our dear Primrose. And I have thought, with some a.s.sistance and a good deal of energy on the part of two young people if they should agree, there might be a new house of Henry & Co., with its reputation half made to begin with. I know Philemon will agree. He hath already proposed to take a position under Mr. Morris, and seems only anxious now to earn a living in some respectable way. But I wanted to consult thee first."

"I thank thee a thousand times, dear madam. Am I losing Quaker simplicity?" and he smiled gravely. "I am afraid I have acquired a good many worldly ways."

"A little worldliness will not hurt thee. In sooth my plan would call for a large share of it, but I want the old-fashioned trustiness and integrity. When times change men and women, too, must change with them.

I should like to see thee a solid and respected citizen of the town--of the new town that is to be."

"Thou dost honor me greatly. And I must confess to thee, since seeing larger men and larger issues, a higher ambition has stirred within me.

If it had so fallen out that I had gone back to the farm, I could not have been content with the old plodding round. And when it was taken from me it seemed in some degree the work of Providence that I should have been pushed out of the old nest and made to think on new lines."

"Then wilt thou carry my idea with thee and consider it well? There need be no haste. Thy return will do."

Much moved, he pressed her hand warmly. Then he carried it to his lips with the grace of a courtier.

CHAPTER XXII.

POLLY AND PHIL.

The city seemed quite dull when the Commander-in-Chief and his staff had departed for Newburgh. The feeling of peace grew stronger every day. The country mansions along the Schuylkill began to take on new life, and the town to bestir itself. True, finances were in the worst possible shape from the over issue of paper money, and in many instances people went back to simple barter.

The Randolphs were very much at home on the farm. Betty's two babies were cunning little midgets, the elder a boy, the younger a girl.

Primrose fell very much in love with them. Here was something she need not be afraid of loving with all her might.

"Only I wish I had not been seventeen," she cried pettishly. "I can't see how Polly gets along with so many admirers. I do not want any. There is something in their eyes when they look at you that sends a shiver over me."

"Has Polly so many?" asked madam, rather amused.

"Why, yes. Just a few evenings ago young Mr. Norris came in and then Mr.

Ridgway. I thought they quite glowered at each other. And what one said the other sniffed about as if it was hardly worth saying. And Mr.

Ridgway thought cards stupid, and Phil grew quite cross and said we would come home. It is very pleasant when there is no one there, we four can agree so well."

"At card-playing?" in a rather diverted manner.

"Not always, not often indeed. We sing and talk and say over verses.

There are so many in that old ballad book. But lovers seem always to break one's heart and to love the wrong one. I shall never have a lover.

I shall never marry," and her sweet voice has a delightful severity.

Madam Wetherill really laughs then.

"Oh, I am in earnest. You shall see. For when I called on Anabella yesterday she flung her arms around my neck and cried out--'Oh, Primrose, never, never marry! I wish I could undo my marriage. Men are so selfish and care so little for one after they get them. And they all say the same thing as lovers. Captain Decker was going to die if he could not have me, and he marched off, never writing a word afterward.

And so said Mr. Parker, and now he thinks of nothing but his dinner and his pipe afterward, and his nap, and having his clothes all laid out in the morning and brushed, and does not want to go out anywhere, nor have company at home. And the two hateful children brawl all the time, and their father scolds because I cannot keep them in order. 'Tis a wretched life and I hate it!' What think you of that, dear madam?"

"It was not a wise marriage, but I am sorry Anabella is so unhappy.

There is plenty of time yet for thee to have lovers, so do not trouble thy golden head."

"Phil has grown so good to take me out everywhere. And we are all going up to the farm some day to get Betty, and then on up the Schuylkill.

There are so many beautiful places, and now that May has brought everything out in bloom, all the roads and by-ways are like pictures.

And Betty wants to see Valley Forge; so, for that matter, do I. But Phil is worrying about some work Mr. Morris promised him."

"Yes. There are some other things to see to. Mr. Northfield wants to instruct him about the estate, for he is very poorly."

"It seems a shame for me to have so much and Phil nothing," she said tentatively.

"Perhaps there will not be so very much when things come to be settled.

Do not be disturbed about Phil. A true man would scorn to take from a woman."

There were many delightful rides in the country about, many historical places on both sides of the river, queer interests at Germantown, where people had gone back to their old employments, and were spinning and weaving and making furniture and carving. There were no lack of reminders of the great battle in some ruins that had never been rebuilt, and men still working cheerfully who had lost an arm or a leg. There was the brave old Chew house that had proved indestructible.

And there was another old house, quite dilapidated now and in charge of an old couple, who, for any trifle people chose to give, would exhibit a curious arrangement of cogs and wheels and mysterious wires that a great many years before a man, named Redhefer, claimed possessed the secret of perpetual motion. It always went day and night, as the neighbors could testify. Men of curious or scientific leanings paid to see the wonderful machine. And one day the secret was found out. There was a curious crank in the loft connected by wires in the wall, and a kind of clock arrangement, that kept it going. This part of the loft being roughly boarded up, and the loft itself kept for mere rubbish, no one suspected it.

There were School Lane, and the Schuylkill falls, really beautiful then, and the lovely Wissahickon, famous for its abundant supply of fish, and places one could ramble about forever. Betty Mason was a charming companion. Philemon often had them all, for Allin was busy with his studies and some plans he nursed in secret, now that Andrew Henry and Vane were both away.

Penn Morgan and Clarissa Lane stood up in meeting one evening and plighted their marriage vows. Rather unwillingly Rachel offered them accommodation in her house, but Penn had fixed up a room in the barn that would do very well until two rooms in the new house were finished, and Clarissa was very happy, and was also very respectful to Aunt Lois.

But the great interest had gone out of the old house, and she did not feel at home any more. However, she rested serenely in Andrew's promise that before very long he would have a home to take her to.

Rachel had hoped and despaired alternately. She had a strong, stubborn will under her plain exterior and quiet manner. And she hated not to succeed in anything she undertook. It seemed to her one of the most natural and most reasonable things in the world that Andrew should marry her when his parents strongly desired it. In her estimation it was an absolute sin for him to go against the opinion of the brethren and become a soldier. Yet she was willing to forgive it all and help lead him back in the right way.

It was but justice that Penn should be rewarded for his care and patience. She had not expected so much, but Aunt Lois, left to her charge, would surely have some influence over him, and now that peace was likely to be declared he would return, and his old home might be dear to him. So she would not give up hope, but she did give up her foolish jealousy of Primrose. She had the girl's solemn promise, but what comforted her more than all was the rumor of young Wharton being quite devoted to the girl.

What a summer it was to Primrose! They were out at the farm, but matters were much more quiet. The young women who had been so gay and entertaining were mostly married, and Madam Wetherill was very much engrossed with business matters. She found Philemon Henry very clear-headed. And as he came to know more about the Colonies, and the causes that led to the rebellion, he found there was more injustice on the side of England, but that even there they had not all been of one mind.