because we hear nothing of Clarissa, and I think Aunt Euphemia is the
same, for I heard her talking and sighing last night when Miss Bidwell
carried up the night light. Dear Clarissa, how I wish I could see her
again; I wonder if she be quite, quite happy shut up in New York among
the Tories."

"No doubt; though when she married Gulian Verplanck we had little
thought of the occupation of New York by the British. Do you recollect
how pretty she looked on her wedding-day, Betty, and the little caps you
and I wore,--mine with a knot of blue, and yours of rose-color? I found
that ribbon one day last week, tucked away in a little box. Have you
kept yours?"

"No," returned Betty, with a sudden blush and a quick, half-guilty throb
of her heart, as she remembered in whose hand she had last seen that
same bow of rose-color; "that is, I had it until last summer, when--I
lost it." And Betty dropped two stitches in her confusion, which
fortunately Pamela was too much engrossed in her own thoughts to notice.

"It is five years last May," said Pamela. "You and I were tiny things of
ten and eleven years, and Oliver strutted about grand and dignified in a
new coat. The first wedding in our family--I wonder whose be the next?"

"Yours, of course." said Betty quickly. "That is if you and Josiah can
ever make up your minds. I will not be like you, Pamela, trust me, when
my turn comes I'll know full well whether I will or I won't." And Betty
tossed her saucy head with a mischievous laugh as there came a rap on
the front door which caused both girls to start up and fly to the
window.