The Loyalist Part 57

"Yes. And I told you that if he had told that to me, I would ask what ailed him."

"Oh, Daddy, you are too funny tonight. I can't reason with you."

She sat back on her heels and pouted.

He smiled and roused himself upright and put his arm around her and drew her to him.

"There! There! I know what you mean, daughter. It means that I shall have no say in the matter."

"Why?"

"You will do it all."

"No. I shall never leave you."

"Yes, you will. You will be happier. But why didn't Stephen ask me about it?"

"How did you know it was Stephen?" she looked at him in astonishment.

"Well enough."

"But how?" she repeated.

"I knew it all the time and your mother and I have been prepared for this occasion."

"But who told you?" Her eyes opened full and round in genuine wonder.

Here was one surprise after the other.

"There was no need of any one telling me. I have been watching the pair of you, and sensed what the outcome would be some little while ago."

"But, Daddy. How should you know?"

He laughed outright.

"There! There! We are satisfied quite, I can a.s.sure you. I know what you are about to say; and your mother knows it too."

"But I have not yet told her. I meant to tell her today but did not.

Then I thought of telling you and of whispering the whole story to her after we were upstairs."

She was serious, very serious, absorbed for the most part in her story although her mind was clouded with amazement at the want of surprise which was manifested. Her innocent mind apparently was unable for the time being to fathom the intricacies of this plot which seemed to be laid bare to every one concerned save her own self.

"Of course you will tell her, but you will find that she will consent to the proposal."

"What proposal?"

"Why, I suppose the proposal of your coming marriage."

"But!... But!... Daddy!... I never said anything about marriage."

"You did start to tell me that Stephen told you he was very fond of you?"

"Yes."

"And you told him the same."

"No, I didn't."

"But you will tell him."

A hush followed. She looked askance at him from the corner of her eye.

"And so after you two have told one another as much as that you may as well decide upon the date."

"But ... I ... I am not sure that I want to marry him."

"Well, that is your privilege, you know."

"And.... And ... perhaps he will never ask me again."

"Just wait a bit."

"And would you marry him?"

"I told you that I would not. I already have one wife...."

"Oh! You make me lose all patience," she cried rising from the floor and leaving him. "I shall confide in mother."

"Remember," he cautioned her in a somewhat serious strain. "Do not ask her to marry him."

She was gone.

The following day a letter was dispatched to the Headquarters at Morristown, New Jersey. In the meantime a very large doubt began to take form in the mind of one little girl concerning the manner of its reception. A thousand and one impossible situations were conceived, but there seemed nothing to do; he must now do it all. The possibility loomed ghost-like before her: he might never return. The wound which she had caused still smarted and ached. He might never return. Her eyes wandered and strayed among the mult.i.tude of objects before them; her lips had forgotten their usual smile. He might fail to receive her note and if he did he might disdain to acknowledge it. But no! He would not do that. There was naught else to do but wait. Oh! if the moments would only hurry!

CHAPTER IV

I

It was a great day for Philadelphia when the Continental Congress went to Ma.s.s. It was Independence Day, too, but this was of lesser importance in the estimation of the people, especially of the Catholic portion of them. Fully a quarter before the hour, the bell began to sound and the streets became like so many avenues of commerce with people standing in doorways, or leaning from their windows, or hurrying with feverish haste in the direction of the New Chapel of St. Mary's, the parish church of the city. There a number of them congregated in twos or threes to await the procession of notables, who would soon approach with great solemnity and dignity from the opposite corner of the street.

The celebration came about in this manner:

It was the desire of M. Gerard, the Minister Plenipotentiary of France, to commemorate the anniversary day of the Independence of the United States in a religious manner. Arrangements already had been made to hold Divine wors.h.i.+p earlier in the morning at Christ Church, at which the guests of honor were invited to be present. At twelve o'clock the congregation would march to the Church of St. Mary, where a military Ma.s.s and a solemn Te Deum would be sung. The Reverend Seraphin Bandol, chaplain to the French Emba.s.sy, would celebrate the Ma.s.s and deliver a sermon appropriate to the occasion.

It had been fondly expected that the event would a.s.sume an international tone. Events had been moving with extraordinary rapidity towards the establishment of the Roman Catholic religion in the graces of the government, and this celebration might demonstrate the patriotic motives of the Catholic body beyond the shadow of a doubt. That a Congress, which of late had condemned in the strongest terms the practices of the Roman Catholic religion, could change in sentiment and action in so short a time, would be an unequivocal proof of the countenance and good will which the Catholic religion was beginning to acquire. At any rate the example set by the governing body of the new republic attending Ma.s.s in a Roman Catholic edifice, offering up their devout orisons in the language, service and wors.h.i.+p of Rome, would be a memorable one, an augury of the new spirit of religious freedom which later would be breathed into the Const.i.tution of these same States by these same men.