Theodore Winthrop

“ Voltaire propounded. “Suppose he should help to run you off.”
“How can he?”
“I will steal off to-night to Fishkill, and see him.”
“You risk your life.”
“Poh!”
“Poh!” is not a word to use to a young lady, Mr. Voltaire. Yet perhaps nothing could express so well as that explosive syllable how much and how little he valued life when the lady’s happiness was at stake.
“But I didn’t want Miss Lucy to be frightened, of course,” says he to Major Skerrett, “so I told her that I was safe enough in the Highlands, and when I got here I didn’t believe Major Scrammel would let me be shot for a spy.” ”

“ But why did her mother tolerate these coarse men from the barracks, with their Tom, Dick, and Harry talk? To be sure these were days of war, and Mrs. Brothertoft was loyal in her sympathies, though non-committal, and “She may think it right,” thought Lucy, “to show her loyalty in the only way a woman can, by hospitality. But I am glad she does not expect me to help her entertain her guests. I am glad I am a child still. I hope I shall never be a woman.” ”

“ Brothertoft’s short, despotic way. Neither side argued. Lucy prepared to obey, just as she would have thrust a thorn in her foot, or swallowed a coal, upon order. She was not so very happy. She could be a little more unhappy without an unbearable shock. Major Kerr did not disgust her so much as some of her mother’s intimates. Still the prospect was not charming. The summer roses lost color to her eyes. Color left the cheeks that once rivalled the roses. The bride did not try to smile. Smiles are smiles only when the heart pulls the wires. ”

“ Dead! No, Miss Lucy; he’s up to Fishkill, and sends you his lub by me, if you want it.”
Love — even disguised as “Lub” — it was such a fair angel of light, that Lucy looked up and greeted it with a smile. But this was not a day for smiles. Storms were come after long gray weather. Only tears now, — bitter tears! They must flow, sweet sister! It is the old, old story.
“Does he really love me? Is this true? Was he true? Was I deceived? Why did he and my mother separate? Why did she drive him out? Whom can I trust? Is every one a liar? What does this mean? Answer me, Voltaire! ”

“ It takes practice to work the grimace out of a forced smile, so that it may pass for genuine.
When was the bridegroom coming? That information the bridegroom himself, though Sir Henry Clinton’s Adjutant, could not yet precisely give. “We are soon to make a blow at the Highlands, — then you will see me,” — so he wrote, and sent the message in a silver bullet. Silver bullets, walnuts split and glued together, and stuffed with pithy notes instead of kernels, and all manner of treacherous tokens, passed between Brothertoft Manor and the Red outposts. ”

“ Knights do not come at call, when damsels are in distress. No; I am impotent to help her. If she cannot help herself, her heart must break, as mine has broken. That base woman will crush her life, as she crushed mine. ”