CHAPTER V--UP IN THE ATTIC
"Up in the attic where mother goes Is a trunk in a shadowed nook-- A trunk--and its lid she will oft unclose, As if 'twere a precious book. She kneels at its side on the attic boards, And tenderly, soft and slow, She counts all the treasures she fondly hoards-- The things of long ago."
--Anonymous.
"I fear we have made a mistake in returning to town," observed Mrs. Owenwhen at length they reached the dwelling after a silent walk home. "Ihad no idea things had become so dear. There is hardly such a thing asliving in town, but David wished us to be here. In truth, with so manyoutlaws scouring the country, I feel that we are far safer than we wouldbe on the farm. And yet what shall be done anent the matter of clothes?Thou must have a frock for the tea party."
"I can wear my blue and white Persian," said the girl bravely. "Theemust not worry so over my frock, mother."
"Thy Persian was new three years since," objected her mother. "And thouhast grown, Peggy. Beside, 'tis faded. Stay! I have the very thing. Comewith me, child."
She sprang up with so much animation that Peggy wondered at her. It wasnot customary with Mrs. Owen to be harassed over such a matter asclothes, but her daughter's unselfishness when her need was so great hadstirred her to unusual tenderness. Up to the garret they went, the ladyleading the way with the agility of a girl. The attic extended over theentire main building. There were great recesses under the eaves whichpigeons sought, and dark closets where one might hide as in the oldlegend of the old oak chest.
From one of the shadowed niches Mrs. Owen drew forth a chest. It wasbattered and old, yet it required all the lady's strength to force thelock.
"The key is lost," she explained to Peggy who was following hermovements with eagerness. "'Tis a mercy the house was occupied byBritish in place of Hessians. Had they had it everything would have beentaken. The English were more moderate in their plundering, though theydid take many of Dr. Franklin's books, I hear, and his portrait.[[1]]
"There," she exclaimed almost gaily, drawing forth a yellowing dress,and holding it up to view with gentle pride. "There, Peggy! There is thyfrock."
A faint sweet perfume emanated from the folds of the garment as Mrs.Owen held it up. Peggy touched it wonderingly.
"Whose was it, mother?" she asked almost in a whisper. "Not thine?"
"Mine, Peggy? Why, 'twas my wedding dress." The lady smoothed the satinfolds tenderly. "'Twas once the sheerest white, but it hath lain so longthat it hath mellowed to cream. But that will be the more becoming tothy dark hair and eyes."
"And I am to wear it?" queried the maiden in awed tones. "Oh, mother,'tis too much to ask of thee."
"Thee deserves it, my daughter. I would far rather that thou shouldsthave the good of it than it should lie here to rot. Let me see!" Divingdown into the chest with a gaiety she did not often exhibit, she broughtup some little shoes, silken to match the gown. "Ah! I thought theseshould be here. And here is a fan with sticks of sandal wood. And apiece of fine lawn that will make thee an apron. Come! we shall donicely. 'Tis a veritable treasure chest we have come upon. We will notexplore it further now. There may come another time of need. Take thouthe shoon, Peggy, and the fan. I will carry the gown. We will begin workat once. I was slender when the frock was worn, but thou art a full inchsmaller about the waist. 'Twill be easily fixed."
With reverent hands Peggy took the shoes and fan, and followed hermother down to the living-room.
As Sally had said, Peggy was indeed thankful for the hours of trainingin fine sewing and embroidery. When finally the day came for the tryingon, and the desired frock fulfilled her highest expectation, her ecstasywas unable to contain itself.
"Thee is the best mother that ever lived," she cried catching Mrs. Owenabout the waist and giving her a girlish hug. "What would I do withoutthee? Oh, mother! what if thee had had no wedding gown? What would wehave done?"
Mrs. Owen laughed, well pleased at her enthusiasm.
"We will not consider that part of it, Peggy," she said. "We have it intruth, and it does indeed look well. A new frock would have looked nobetter. Ah! here is Sally. Let her give her opinion."
"Thee comes just in time, Sally," cried Peggy as Sally Evans was showninto the room. "How does thee like my new frock?"
"'Tis much prettier than mine," declared Sally eying the gowncritically. "And vastly distinctive. Where did thee get the material,Peggy? I never saw quite the shade."
"Then thee thinks it citified and a la mode?" queried Peggy, ignoringthe question.
"'Tis as sweet and modish as can be," cried Sally generously. "Thee willoutshine all us females, Peggy."
"Thee can't mean that, Sally," reproved Peggy flushing at such praise."I know that thee is partial to thy friend, but that is going too far."
"But 'tis the truth," answered Sally. "Would that I had seen thatfabric, and I would have chosen it for my new frock. I did get a new oneafter all. I teased mother into getting it by telling her that thee wasto have a new one."
"Oh! did thee?" cried Peggy. "Why, Sally, this was mother's weddinggown. We went to get a frock, but found the prices beyond us. Mother wasdetermined that I should have the gown though, so she gave me this."
"Mother was going to get it anyway, Peggy," said Sally quickly, seeingher friend's dismay. "It might not have been until later but I was tohave a dress this winter. So thee must not think it thy fault that I gotit. Would though that I had not. I wonder if my mother hath a weddinggown. This is vastly pretty."
"Is 't not?" cried Peggy. "And, Sally, I hear there is to be dancingafter the tea at the general's. It is strange for Quakers to attend suchaffairs. Why, does thee not remember how we used to wish to attend theweekly assemblies, and how it was spoke against in the meeting?"
"It is strange," assented Sally, "but Quakers go everywhere now with theworld's people. What was it that Master Benezet used to teach us?Something anent the times, was it not?"
"'O tempora! O mores,'" quoted Peggy. "'O the times! O the manners!' Howlong ago it seems since we went to Master Benezet's school. Heigh ho!would I were attending it again!"
"Why, Peggy Owen, would thee wish to miss this tea?" demanded herfriend. "For my part I am monstrously glad that I am through with books;for now I am going to----" She paused abruptly. "But 'tis to remain secretfor a time," she added.
"Sally! a secret from me?" exclaimed Peggy reproachfully. "I thoughtthee told me everything."
"I do; usually," returned the other with a consequential air. "But thisis of great import, and is not to be known for a few days. Oh, Peggy,"she cried, suddenly dropping her important mien, and giving Peggy ahearty squeeze. "I am dying to tell thee all about it, but I cannotuntil--until--well, until the night of General Arnold's tea."
And so it came about that Peggy had another incentive for awaiting thatevent impatiently.
-----[1] This, in fact, was not recovered until long afterward in London.
Peggy Owen, Patriot: A Story for Girls Page 7