"Yes; and she does also, for Mr. Reed went into it with her. He told her to be very careful in speaking even about writing to Sir Henry, as the people were in no mood to tolerate communications with the enemy. She understands all that it means, my child. I think she will do naught until Clifford comes, and perhaps he will be better of judgment than she."
"I am so glad," said Peggy again, and much relieved resumed her neglected ironing.
The days passed. March glided into April, but the soft sweet days of spring brought no letter from Clifford. If the parole had been given Harriet did not know of it. She fumed and fretted under the waiting.
"Why do I not hear from him?" she cried one morning. "It hath been a month since I wrote, and it doth not take half so long to hear from Virginia. I do wish that either I would hear from Clifford, or that Mr. Reed would let me know anent the parole."
"Thee is like to get one of thy wishes, for here comes Mr. Reed now," said Peggy who was standing by the front window of the living-room.
"Let me go to the door, madam my cousin," exclaimed Harriet as Mrs. Owen started to answer the knocker.
"Very well, Harriet," assented the matron with a smile.
But both Peggy and her mother were startled to hear Mr. Reed say gravely, in answer to Harriet's eager questioning:
"Nay; 'tis not about the parole I am come, Mistress Harriet, but anent a more serious matter."
"And what, sir, could be more serious than my brother's release?" came Harriet's clear voice.
"A charge against you, mistress, would be much more serious," was the reply.
"Of what do you accuse me, sir?" was the girl's haughty query.
"I accuse you of nothing, but I insist upon truthful answers to some questions. For the sake of these cousins with whom you are staying I entreat you to reply with truth, and nothing but truth."
"Come, Peggy," cried Mrs. Owen rising. "We will see what this means."
"For right is right, since God is God; And right the day must win; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin."
--"The Right Must Win," _Frederick William Faber_.
"What is the trouble, Friend Reed?" asked Mrs. Owen as she entered the hall.
"I wish you good-morning, Mrs. Owen. It grieves me to enter David Owen's house upon such mission as I must this day perform, but war is no respecter of persons. Were it my own household I still must subject its inmates to a most rigid inquiry." Mr. Reed fumbled nervously with his cocked hat as he spoke, and looked the embarrassment that he felt.