Janice, with heightened colour and angry eyes, eluded Howe's
familiarities by a backward step, and, raising the glass, defiantly
gave, "Success to Washington!" Then, scared at her own
temerity, she darted from the room, in her fright carrying
away the tumbler of spirits. But she need not have fled, for
her toast only called forth an uproarious burst of laughter.

"I always said 't was a rebellion of petticoats," chuckled
Sir William. "And small blame to them when they sought
to tax their only drink. 'Fore George, I'd rebel myself if
they went to taxing good spirits unfairly. Ah, gentlemen,
after we have finished with Mr. Washington next week, what
sweet work 't will be to bring the caps to a proper submission!
No wonder Cornwallis is hot to push on and have done with
the men."

The morrow found Sir William no less inclined to tarry than
he had been the day before, and, using the plea that they
would await the arrival of Knyphausen's force, he sent orders
to the advance to remain bivouacked at Brunswick, much to
the disgust of Cornwallis, who was little mollified by the consent
he finally wrung from his superior to push forward the
Light Horse on a reconnoissance,--a task on which he at
once departed.

Thus rid of his disagreeable spur, the general settled down
before the parlour fire to a game of piquet with Clowes, not
a little to the scandalising of card-hating Mrs. Meredith.
Worse still to the mother, nothing would do Sir William but
for Janice to come and score for him, and it is to be confessed