"It was all decided last night," said Betty, tucking her little feet carefully under her gown and clasping her knees with her hands to keep them warm, as she sat in Moppet's chair, which stood close by the fire, where a log burned and crackled in the big chimney—a most unusual luxury for those days, and granted only to Moppet's youth and slight delicacy of constitution. "Father found the pass from General Washington among his dispatches brought by the courier; and as it includes Mrs. Seymour's maid, he arranged with her that I go instead, as Mrs. Seymour kindly says she can procure another attendant in New York. I can scarce believe it possible, Sally. Oh, fancy my having to live in a city occupied by the British!"

"Ah," sighed Miss Moppet, pressing her head against Betty's knee, and a spark of interest lighting up her doleful little face, "if only some of them be like my good"—

"Oh, some of the Tories may be passably amusing," said Betty hastily, giving Moppet a warning glance, as she checked the words on the child's lips by a soft touch of her hand. "I doubt not that Gulian, my brother-in-law, has fine qualities, else Clarissa had not been so fond of him as to leave us all and go so far from us. But I trust that even Gulian may not see fit to talk loyalist to me; my naughty tongue would get me into trouble straightway."

"You must learn to control your tongue, Betty," said Moppet primly, with a roguish twinkle of her eyes upward. "Miss Bidwell says mine is an unruly member, and told me a most dire tale of a little girl whose mother for punishment pricked her tongue with a hot bodkin."

"Ugh!" cried Sally, with a shudder, "that was in Puritan days, truly."

"I do not crave the hot bodkin," said Betty, laughing. "Miss Bidwell's tales are a trifle gruesome, Moppet."

"But I always do love a flimming tale, Betty" (this was Moppet's invariable rendering of the word "thrilling," which her lips had never yet conquered), "and some of them are most bloody ones, I assure you. Oh, Betty, Betty, what shall I do when you are gone!" and with a sudden realization of her loss, Moppet gave a quick sob which went to Betty's heart.

"Nay, sweetheart, be a brave little maid," she answered, fighting a small lump in her own throat. "I would I could take you with me; but as I cannot, you must hasten to learn how to make better pot-hooks and write me letters, which Aunt Euphemia will forward with hers. And, Moppet, I think I shall give you in special charge to Sally; how will that please you?"

"I love Sally," said the child simply, as the tender-hearted Sally knelt down beside her. "Will you help console me with my primer and that altogether dreadful sampler when my Betty is away?"

"Indeed will I," replied Sally, much amused with Moppet's view of the sampler; "and you shall come and see me every fine day, and the wet ones I am sure to be here with Pamela, who has proclaimed her intention of adopting me when Betty goes. And now I must be going, for it is nearly the dinner hour, and my mother says as I have dined here three days she bespeaks my presence for one out of four. So farewell until to-morrow, Betty, when I shall be here to see you start upon your travels."

Betty was busy enough all that day; indeed, nothing more than a confused recollection remained with her afterward of trunk and two small boxes to be packed; of Pamela's urging her acceptance of a new lute-string slip, rose-colored, which had recently come to her from Boston; of Miss Bidwell's innumerable stockings all tucked carefully away in one corner of the hair-covered brass-nailed box, and even Miss Moppet's tenderly cherished blue bag embroidered in steel beads, which had belonged to their mother, but which Moppet insisted could be used by Betty with great effect for her handkerchief at a ball.

"Ball, indeed," sighed Betty, whose brave heart was beginning to quail at thought of an untold length of separation from her beloved family. "I should think the hearts of the patriots imprisoned in New York would scarce be occupied with balls in such times as these."

"You mistake," said Pamela, who, truth to tell, half longed for Betty's opportunities, for was not her sister going somewhere near Josiah's post? "I am sure Clarissa's letter which you read me bade you bring all your best gowns and finery, and we have all heard how gay the army of occupation make the city."

"Aye, to those who are Tories," said Betty, with curling red lips, "but for me—oh, Miss Bidwell, if you put in another pair of stockings I shall require as many feet as a centipede, who I read has hundreds of them."

"Hundreds of feet?" echoed Miss Moppet. "Oh, Betty, do I live to hear you tell a fairy tale as if it were real?"

"Read your primer, and you will learn many wonderful things," quoth Betty, snatching up the child in her arms. "I shall take you straightway to bed, for we must be up betimes in the morning, you know."

Very carefully and tenderly did Betty bathe Moppet's sweet little face, comb and smooth the pretty curling hair, so like her own save in color, and then run the brass warming-pan, heated by live coals, through the sheets lest her tender body suffer even a slight chill. And when Moppet was safely lodged in bed Betty sat down beside her to hold her hand until she dropped asleep. But between excitement and grief the child's eyes would not close, and she asked question after question, until Betty finally announced she should answer no more.

Moppet lay still for some moments, and just as Betty was beginning to fancy that the long, dark eyelashes worn curling downward in sleepy comfort the dark blue eyes opened, and a dancing imp of mischief gleamed from their depths in Betty's face.

"When you meet Captain Yorke, Betty," whispered Moppet, "be sure you tell him how Oliver and Josiah hunted and hunted that morning, and how I never, never told"—

"Moppet," said Betty, turning a vivid pink in the firelight, "how can you!"—

"Yes," pursued Moppet relentlessly, "and you give him my love—heaps of it—and I just hope he may never get taken a prisoner during the whole war again."

"Go to sleep, dear," answered Betty, biting her lip; but her cheeks did not grow cool until long after the soft, regular breathing told that her little sister had gone into the land of dreams.

The Wolcott household was up early that cold winter morning, when Mrs. Seymour's coach, with its pair of sturdy, strong gray horses, drew up at the front door. It took some twenty minutes to bestow Betty's trunk and boxes on the rumble behind, during which time Mrs. Seymour alighted and received all manner of charges and advice from Miss Euphemia, who, now that Betty was fairly on the wing, felt much sinking of heart over her departure. Mrs. Seymour, a pretty young matron, whose natural gayety of spirit was only subdued by the anxiety she was suffering in regard to her only brother, now a prisoner in New York (and for whose exchange she was bringing great influence to bear in all directions), listened with much outward deference and inward impatience to the stately dame, and turned with an air of relief to General Wolcott when he announced that all was ready for their departure, and with much courtliness offered his hand to conduct her to her coach.

"That you will take the best care of my daughter I am assured, madam," said the gallant gentleman. "It is our great good fortune to have found this opportunity and your kind escort, for owing to the shortness of time I have not been able to notify my son-in-law of Betty's coming. But as you are going into the city yourself, I depend upon you to keep her with you until you can place her safely in Gulian Verplanck's hands. I trust that you have General Washington's pass close by you? It is quite possible that you may need it even before you reach White Plains; there are many marauding parties who infest the country beyond us."

"It is here, general," replied Mrs. Seymour, touching the breast of her gown. "I thought it well to carry it about my person, as I am told that even the Hessians respect General Washington's safe-conduct to enter New York."

Betty, with crimson cheeks, but brave smiling eyes, threw her arms fondly around Miss Euphemia, Pamela, Sally, and Miss Bidwell, all in turn, but Moppet's soft cry as she buried her face in her hands made her lip quiver, and as she bent her head for her father's farewell, a reluctant tear forced itself down her cheek.

"The God of our fathers be with you, my daughter," he said, taking her in his arms; "my love and blessing to Clarissa and her husband. Remain with them until I find safe opportunity to have you return to us; advise us often of your health and, I trust, continued well-being; keep a brave heart as befits your name and lineage; fare you well, fare you well!"

Betty sank back trembling into her seat beside Mrs. Seymour, the door was closed, and as the coach rolled off she caught a parting glimpse of Miss Moppet lifted high in General Wolcott's arms, kissing her hand fondly as she waved good-by.