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Updated: June 1, 2025
You remember that sweet girl, Lucy Flucker, whom you met at Miss Newville's garden party?" "Yes, a lovely lady." "Her father is secretary of the Colony, and of course sides with the king, but she is soon to be married to the bookseller, Mr. Knox, greatly against the wishes of the family; not because he is not worthy of her, but because he opposes the king and his ministers," said Berinthia.
Berinthia Brandon, the following week, could not understand why Tom wanted Dinah to make him a pot of paste; nor why he was out so late at night, not getting home till three o'clock in the morning. None of the watchmen, going their rounds, saw anybody pasting handbills on the walls of the houses, but everybody saw the bills in the morning.
"I will take Hyperion," Miss Newville replied, with a tact and grace that made her dearer than ever to Berinthia, and to them all, knowing as they did that Bohea and Hyson were still served in her own home. Supper over, they returned to the parlor, where the bright flame on the hearth was setting their shadows to dancing on the walls.
Through the intervening months his face had been ever present. She lived again the hour of their first meeting, that of the afternoon tea-party, the launching of the Berinthia Brandon, the ride in the pung. She had received several letters from him, which were laid carefully away in her writing-desk. Many times had they been read and with increasing pleasure.
He only knew it was delightful to stand there, to hear her voice, to see the smiles rippling upon her face, and the loving eyes that turned towards him at times. When at last the good-night was spoken, when himself and Berinthia were quite a distance, looking backward he saw her white handkerchief waving them farewell.
"I might have an idea, which might be correct or which might not be. A supposition isn't testimony. I don't think I'll say anything about it," said Tom. "Can you guess who carved it?" Berinthia asked earnestly. "Anybody can guess, Brinth, but the guess might not be worth anything; I'll not try." "You Sons of Liberty don't let out your secrets," Berinthia said.
He told the reason of his being there, to bring the gift of Rumford to the suffering poor. She had many questions to ask about Rachel. Was she still making cheese? Had she many flowers? "I suppose Rachel's brother prepares the flowerbeds as in former years," she said, laughing. "Yes, I spaded them for her." "Berinthia informs me that she has found her true love." "So it appears."
"Yes, and we can, upon a pinch, drink cold water from the town pump and flavor it with peppermint," she said, as she wrote her name. After leaving Miss Quincy, Berinthia lifted the knocker of the Newville mansion, not to ask Ruth to sign the agreement; she could not do that, for Mr. Newville was a Tory, and the signers were daughters of patriots. "How good it is to see you once more.
It was a pleasure to meet Colonel Henry Knox and Mrs. Knox. "We all thought you went down in the mêlée at Bunker Hill, and yet here you are," said Colonel Knox. "Yes, and ready to do what I can to drive the redcoats into the sea." Mrs. Knox was delighted to hear from her old-time associate, Berinthia Brandon. She said that Tom was giving a good account of himself.
Her eyes had followed him; even when not looking towards him she had seen him. Once more she thanked Rachel for her gift. Her mates were asking her where she had found a hood so beautiful and becoming. They stood upon the quarter-deck, Berinthia the queen of the hour, Ruth, radiant and lovely, by her side. They heard the bell striking the hour of eleven.
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