Wharton, "who hoped, by getting my estate confiscated, to purchase
good farms at low prices. Peyton Dunwoodie, however, soon obtained our
discharge; we were detained but a month."
"We!" repeated the son, in amazement; "did they take my sisters, also?
Fanny, you wrote me nothing of this."
"I believe," said Frances, coloring highly, "I mentioned the kind
treatment we received from your old friend, Major Dunwoodie; and that he
procured my father's release."
"True; but were you with him in the rebel camp?"
"Yes," said the father, kindly; "Fanny would not suffer me to go alone.
Jeanette and Sarah took charge of the Locusts, and this little girl was
my companion, in captivity."
"And Fanny returned from such a scene a greater rebel than ever," cried
Sarah, indignantly; "one would think the hardships her father suffered
would have cured her of such whims."
"What say you to the charge, my pretty sister?" cried the captain gayly;
"did Peyton strive to make you hate your king, more than he
does himself?"
"Peyton Dunwoodie hates no one," said Frances, quickly; then, blushing
at her own ardor, she added immediately, "he loves you, Henry, I know;
for he has told me so again and again."
Young Wharton tapped his sister on the cheek, with a smile, as he asked
her, in an affected whisper, "Did he tell you also that he loved my
little sister Fanny?"
"Nonsense!" said Frances; and the remnants of the supper-table soon
disappeared under her superintendence.
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