Of the time Janice spent at Trenton little need be said. Compared with Greenwood, the town was truly almost riotous. Neither Presbyterian nor Quaker approved of dancing, and so the regular weekly assemblies were forbidden fruit to the girls, and Janice and Tibbie were too well born to be indelicately of the throng who skated long hours on Assanpink Creek, or to take part in the frequent coasting-parties. But of other amusements they had, in the expression of the day, “a great plenty.” Four teas,—but without that particular beverage,—two quilting-bees, one candy-pulling and one corn-popping, three evenings at singing-school, and a syllabub party supplied such ample social dissipation to Janice that life seemed for the time fairly to whirl.

Not the least of the excitement, it must be confessed, was the conquest by Janice of a young Quaker cousin of Tabitha’s named Penrhyn Morris. Two other of the Trenton lads, too, began to behave in a manner so suspicious to the girls as to call for much discussion. Tibbie as well had several swains, who furnished still further subjects of conversation after sleeping hours had come. Several times sharp reproofs were shouted through the partition from Miss Drinker’s room, but the whispering only sank in tone and not in volume.

One incident not to be omitted was the appearance of Philemon, nominally on business, in Trenton; but he called upon the Drinkers, and remained to dinner when asked. He stayed on and on after that meal, wearying the two girls beyond measure by the necessity of maintaining a conversation, until, just as the desperation point was reached, Tibbie introduced a topic which had an element of promise in it.

“Hast thou seen Charles Fownes of late?” she asked of the mute awkward figure; and though Janice did not look up, there was a moment’s flicker of her eyelashes.

“All I wants ter,” said Phil, sulkily. “An’ I guess that ere’s the feelin’ pretty generally.”

“Why?” demanded Tabitha, after a glance at Janice.

“’Cause of the airs he takes. He called me a put because I was a bit slow—ter his mind—in learnin’ the manual, an’ he’s got a tongue an’ a temper like a hedgehog. But the fellers paid him off come Saturday week.”

“How?” asked Janice, dropping her pose of indifference.

“He ’s been expectin’ ter be appointed captain of the Brunswick Invincibles, when they was trained, but he put on such airs, an’ was so sharp an’ bitin’ with his tongue, that when they voted for officers last week I’ll be dinged if they did n’t drop him altogether. He did n’t get a vote for so much as a corporal’s rank. He was in a stew, I tells you.”

“What did he do?” questioned Tabitha.

“He was so took aback,” snickered Philemon, “that he up and says ’t was the last he’d have ter do with ’em, an’ that they was a lot of clouts an’ clodpates, an’ they ’d got a captain ter match.”

“Was that you?” cruelly asked Janice.

“No. ’T was Joe Bagby,” replied Phil, not so much as seeing the point.

“The village loafer and ne’er-do-weel,” exclaimed Janice, reflecting her father’s view.

“He ain’t idlin’ much these-a-days,” asserted Philemon, “and the boys all like him for his jokes an’ good-nature. I tell you ’t was great sport ter see him an’ your redemptioner give it ter each other. Fownes, he said that if ’t were n’t better sport ter catch rabbits, he’d mightily enjoy chasm’ the whole company of Invincibles with five grenadiers of the guard, an’ Bagby he sassed back by sayin’ that Charles need n’t be so darned cocky, for he’d run from the regulars hisself, an’ then your man tells Joe ter give his red rag a holiday by talkin’ about what he know’d of, for then he’d have ter be silent, an’ then the captain says he was a liar, and Charles knocks him down, an’ stood over him and made him take it back. An’ Bagby he takes it back, sayin’ as how his own words was very good eatin’ anyways. I tell you, the whole town enjoyed that ’ere afternoon.”

“I suppose they made you an officer?” said Miss Meredith, with unconcealed contempt.

“No, Miss Janice,” Philemon eagerly denied, “an’ that ’s what I come over to tell you. Seem’ that you an’ the squire did n’t like my drillin’, I’ve left the company, an I won’t go back, I pass you my word.”

“’T is nothing to me what you do,” responded Janice, crushingly.

“Don’t say that, Miss Janice,” entreated Phil.

“Is thee not ashamed,” exclaimed Tabitha, “to seek to marry a girl against her wishes? If I were Janice, I’d never so much as look at thee.”

“She never said as how she—” stammered Hennion.

“That was nothing,” continued Tibbie. “Thee shouldst have known it. The idea of asking the father first!”

“But that ’s the regular way,” ejaculated Phil, in evident bewilderment.

“To marry a girl when she does n’t choose to!” snapped Tibbie. “A man of any decency would find out—on the sly—if she wanted him.”

“She never would—”

“As if the fact that she would n’t was n’t enough!” continued Tibbie, with anything but Quaker meekness. “Dost think, if she wanted thee, she’d have been so offish?”

Phil, with a sadly puzzled look on his face, said, “I know I ain’t much of a sharp at courtin’, Miss Janice, an’ like as not I done it wrong, but I loves you, that ’s certain, an’ I would n’t do anything ter displeasure you, if I only know’d what you wanted. Dad he says that I was n’t rampageous enough ter suit a girl of spirit, an’ that if I’d squoze you now an’ again, ’stead of—”

“That ’s enough,” said Janice. “Mr. Hennion, there is the door.”

“Thou art a horrid creature!” added Tibbie.

“I ain’t goin’ till I’ve had it all out with you,” asserted Phil, with a dogged determination.

“Then you force us to leave you,” said Janice, rising.

Just as she spoke, the door was thrown open, and Mr. Meredith entered. His eye happened to fall first on Philemon, and without so much as a word of greeting to the girls, he demanded angrily, “Ho! what the devil are ye doing here? ’T is all of a piece that a traitor to his king should work by stealth.”

Even the worm turns, and Philemon, already hectored to desperation by the girls, gave a loose to his sense of the wrong and injustice that it seemed to him every one conspired to heap upon him. “I’ve done no hugger-muggery,” he roared, shaking his fist in the squire’s face, “an’ the man ’s a tarnal liar who says I have.”

“Don’t try to threaten me, sir!” roared back the squire, but none the less retiring two steps. “Your father’s son can’t bully Lambert Meredith. But for his cowardice, and others like him, but for the men of all sides and no side, we’d have prevented the Assembly’s approving the damned resolves of the Congress. Marry a daughter of mine! I’ll see ye and your precious begetter in hell first. Don’t let me find ye snooking about my girl henceforth, or ’t will fare ill with ye that I warn ye.”

“If ’t war n’t that you are her father an’ an old man, I’d teach you a lesson,” growled Phil, as he went to the door; “as ’t is, look out for yourself. You has enemies enough without makin’ any more.”

“There’s a good riddance to him,” chuckled the squire. “Well, hast a kiss for thy dad, Jan?”

“A dozen,” responded the girl. “But what brought you back? Surely the Assembly has not adjourned?”

“’T is worse than that,” asserted the squire. “For a week we held the rascals at bay, but yesterday news came from England that the ministry had determined not to yield, and in a frenzy the Assembly indorsed the Congress’s doings on the spot. As a consequence this morning the king’s governor dissolved us, and the writs will shortly be out for a new election. So back I must get me to Brunswick to attend to my poll. I bespoke a message to Charles by Squire Perkins, who rid on to Morristown, telling him to be here with the sleigh to-morrow as early as he could; and meanwhile must trust to some Trenton friend or to the tavern for a bed, if thy father, Tabitha, can’t put me up.”

Charles reported to the squire at an hour the following morning which indicated either a desire for once to please his master, or some other motive, for an obedience so prompt must have necessitated a moonlight start from Greenwood in order to reach Trenton so early. He was told to bait his horses at the tavern, and the time this took was spent by the girls in repeating farewells.

“’T is a pity thee hast to go before Friend Penrhyn hath spoken,” said Tibbie, regretfully.

“Is n’t it?” sighed Janice. “I did so want to see how he’d say it.”

“You may—perhaps Charles—” brokenly but suggestively remarked Tibbie.

“Perhaps,” responded Janice, “but ’t will be very different. I know he’ll—well, he’ll be abrupt and—and excited, and will—his sentences will not be well thought out before-hand. Now Penrhyn would have spoken at length and feelingly. ’T would have been monstrously enjoyable.”

“At least thee’ll find out who Thalia is.”

“Oh, Tibbie, I fear me I sha’n’t dare. I tried to ask Mr. Taggart, who, being college-bred, ought to know, but I was so afraid she was a wicked woman, that I began to blush before I’d so much as got out the first word. I wish I was pale and delicate like Prissy Glover. ’T is mortifying to be so healthy.”

“Thy waist is at least two inches smaller than hers, when ’t is properly laced.”

“But I have red cheeks,” moaned Janice,” and, oh, Tibbie, at times I have such an appetite!”

“Oh, Jan! so have I,” confided Miss Drinker in the lowest of whispers, as if fearing even the walls. “Sometimes when the men are round, I’d eat twice as much but for the fear they ’d think me coarse and—”

“Gemini, yes!” assented Janice, when the speaker paused. “Many and many ’s the time I’ve wanted more. But ’t is all right as long as the men don’t know that we do.”

“Here ’s the sleigh,” interrupted Tabitha, going to the door. “Come out quickly, while thy father is having the stirrup cup, and I’ll ask him about Thalia.”

“Oh, will you?” joyfully cried Janice. “Tibbie, you’re a—”

Miss Meredith’s speech was stopped by the two coming within hearing of the redemptioner, who promptly removed his cap. “’T will be good to have you back at Greenwood, Miss Janice,” he said with a bow.

“How gracefully he does it!” whispered Tabitha, as they approached the sleigh. Then aloud she asked, “Charles, wilt tell me who—who—who was chosen captain of the ‘Invincibles’?”

The question brought a scowl to the man’s face, and both girls held their breath, expecting an outbreak of temper, while Tabitha to herself bemoaned that so unfortunate a subject sprang first into her thoughts to replace the question she dared not put. But before the groom replied, the scowl changed suddenly into a look of amusement, and when he spoke, it was to say,—

“’T is past belief, Miss Tabitha, except they want to save their skins by never fighting. ’T was Joe Bagby the bumpkins chose—a fellow I’ve knocked down without his resenting it. A cotswold lion, who works his way by jokes and by hand-shakes. He ’s the best friend of every one who ever lived, and I make no doubt, if a British regiment appears, he’ll say he loves the lobsters too much to lead the ‘Invincibles’ against them.”

“No doubt,” agreed Tibbie. “Canst tell me also who— who—how Clarion is?”

But this question was never answered, for the squire appeared at this point, and the sleigh was quickly speeding towards Greenwood. It was after dark when it drew up at its destination, for the spring thaw was beginning, and the roads soft and deep. Janice was so stiff with the long sitting and the cold that she needed help both in alighting and in climbing the porch steps. This the groom gave her, and when she was safely in front of the parlor fire, he assisted in the removing of her wraps, while Mrs. Meredith performed a like service for the squire in the hallway.

“Dost remember your question, Miss Janice,” asked Charles, “just as you drove away from Greenwood?”

“Yes.”

“She was one of the three graces.”

“Was she very beautiful?”

“The ancients so held her, but they had never seen you, Miss Janice.”

The girl had turned away as she nonchalantly asked the last question, and so Charles could not see the charmingly demure smile that her face assumed, nor the curve of the lips, and perhaps it was fortunate for him that he did not. Yet all Miss Meredith said was,—

“Not that I cared to know, but I knew Tibbie would be curious.”