Chapter 10

The meal was almost over when Anne spoke for the first time. "Billy Fields was here today, Father. He lost an arm in a fight up near Philadelphia, on the Brandywine, his left arm." She licked her lips, thinking how to proceed, smiling inwardly.

"Poor boy. That's a shame. His father died a while back didn't he?"

Anne nodded and put down her fork, folded her napkin and placed it on the tablecloth, gathering her nerve. "He's still in the army, Washington's army."

"Your age isn't he?"

"Yes Father, he is. I wrote to him as I had promised I would. I wrote him several letters, perhaps a dozen or more."

"Good, good. Did he write you? The mails are very uncertain now you know."

"He did. He wrote me regularly he said, had friends bring them down and deliver them right to the house, to this house, father." She turned and looked at her stepmother at the other end of the table. "But I received only one of his letters. He got none of mine, and your wife can explain that to you, sir, if you will excuse me." She stood and left quickly, fearing he would see her tears.