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He was to go, she to stay. God above would be her guardian. Mrs. Newville walked as in a daze from parlor to chamber, from dining-room to hall and kitchen. Was she awake or dreaming? Must she leave her home, the home that had been so blissful, so hospitable? Was she never again to welcome a guest to that table, never hear the merry chatter of voices in parlor or garden?

"Then, Miss Brandon, you do not consider yourself, at this moment, one of his subjects?" "I do not. I cannot own allegiance to a sovereign who burns the homes of an inoffensive community, standing for their rights and ancient liberties." "I admire your frankness, Miss Brandon, as I do that of Miss Newville. Have you a pen at hand?"

I learn that he is far gone with fever and seemingly has not many hours to live, and I have come to ask if you will kindly permit his removal to her home?" "Most certainly, my dear Miss Newville; it gives me pleasure to do this little office for you and your friend," he replied. General Gage touched a bell and a sergeant entered the apartment.

The regular standbyes had all taken their usual part, and for any one to speak or pray would have been about as irregular as for one of the regulars to fail in doing so. For the attendants at Newville prayer-meetings were strictly divided into the two classes of speakers and listeners, and, except during revivals or times of special interest, the distinction was scrupulously observed.

"I have been thinking," she said, "of the strange happenings that have come to us how you have been my protector from insult. I cannot express my gratitude, Mr. Walden." "Please do not mention it, Miss Newville. I should indeed be a poltroon did I not resent an indignity to a lady, especially to you. I esteem it an honor to have made your acquaintance.

If Theodore Newville, Nathaniel Coffin, or any of the thousand or more wealthy citizens were willing to remain loyal, if they were ready to become aliens and fugitives and exiles, he must do what he could for them. "What is it, husband?" Mrs. Newville asked as Mr. Newville entered his house, and she beheld his countenance, white, haggard, and woe-begone. "What has happened, father?"

Ruth Newville will be here; and Tom's classmate in Harvard College, Roger Stanley, who lives out beyond Lexington, is coming. He's a real nice young man, and I am sure you will like him. Tom's girl will be here, Mary Shrimpton; she is out in the kitchen now. She has been helping us make crumpets, crullers, gingerbread, and cake.

"Perhaps we had better give politics the go-by and join the ladies," said his lordship, rising and moving towards the parlor. Pompey brought in the tea-urn, cups and saucers, sugar and cream. "Shall I pass you a cup, Miss Newville?" Lord Upperton asked. "Thank you, my lord, but I do not drink tea." "Ha, ha! Miss Newville, so you have joined the other conspirators to outwit Lord North!"

The latter shook the water from his clothes and hesitatingly approached Ned. "I dunno' how to thank you for what you did," he said sheepishly. "I'm mighty sorry I hit that chap. Me and Joe were downright mad because you'uns were fishing thar in our place. You see we come here from the mountains every now and then, and ketch a lot of bass, and sell 'em back at Newville.

While Miss Newville was serving other guests, with Berinthia and Miss Shrimpton Robert walked the garden once more, the great shaggy watch-dog trotting in advance, as if they were guests to be honored by an escort. The afternoon was waning. Guests were leaving, and it was time for Berinthia and Robert to take their departure. "Oh, you are not going now.