Fever 1793 Read Online Free PDF

spent most of his time in Baltimore. Perhaps Grandfather could inquire discreetly.
    Some chicken slid from my fork onto the floor.
    "Dash it aU," I said.
    "Dash it all, dash it all," echoed King George. He swooped down for the treat and flew back to Grandfather's shoulder.
    "Matilda, your language," Mother started.
    Her lecture was interrupted by a knock at the front door.
    "We're not yet open," shouted Grandfather. "Come back in an hour's time."
    22
    "A message, Sir," called a boy.
    "I'll tend to this matter, Ladies," Grandfather said grandly as he stood. "Don't bestir yourselves."
    I ate quickly with one eye on King George. Silas walked under the table, his tail still drooping from his defeat by the squirrel. I tempted him to my lap with his own bite of chicken.
    If I could convince Mother to buy an extra urn, it would quickly pay for itself. Then Eliza could cook real dinners, with turtle soup and joints of beef and mutton. If we could get Mr. Jefferson to take his meals here, more business would follow. Maybe even the president himself, and Mrs. Washington for tea.
    "Don't feed the cat at the table," said Mother, tugging me back to earth.
    "Silas keeps King George away from my plate," I said.
    Mother sighed. "I don't know which of you is worse."
    Grandfather pulled a coin from his pocket for the messenger. He walked back slowly, rereading the thick sheet of paper in his hand.
    "What is that?" asked Mother.
    "Nothing, a useless scrap. Nothing of interest for you." A sly smile crept across his face.
    "If it's of no importance, then burn it," Mother said. She stacked the dirty plates. "Why are you standing there like an addle-pated nitwit?"
    Grandfather looked at the paper again.
    40
    "Oh, my," he said with false surprise. "Is that Pernilla Ogilvie's name I see?"
    Mother set the pickle dish back on the table. Grandfather continued.
    "Pernilla Ogilvie, isn't she the mother of that fine lad you pointed out to me in church? What was it you said-that he'd be a fine match for our Mattie. Yes, that's what it was. But, if you think I should burn it..."
    Mother dove across the room like a hungry hawk.
    "Give that to me," she said, snatching the paper away. She read it hastily. "This is the best news in weeks. Pernilla Ogilvie has invited us to afternoon tea, Matilda."
    She read the invitation again.
    "Oh, good heavens. She wants us there today!"
    "We can't go to tea today," I said. "The shop is too busy. We can't close up or turn away customers. Besides, the Ogilvie girls are snobs. Why would they invite us, except to make fun of our dresses? I'm staying here."
    "We would make time for tea at the Ogilvies if they held it at midnight," said Mother. "Be sensible, Matilda. Think of their young Edward."
    "I was thinking of their young Edward. That's why I'm not going."
    Grandfather stepped between us.
    "Matilda," he said in a honey voice. "Of all the maids in our city, surely you deserve a day of rest, a day to drink tea and eat sweet cakes. But if you must stay here, I'm
    4i
    23
    sure your mother and Eliza would be able to find a suitable list of chores to keep you from boredom. You know how they detest idleness."
    The kettles, I thought. They'll make me scour the kettles again. My hands ached at the thought.
    "And I've heard their cook excels at pastries. Don't give their young Edward a thought. Enjoy yourself. Let your mother enjoy herself. I will direct the replacement troops here at the coffeehouse."
    Mother looked at the old man. He just wanted a quiet afternoon, that much was clear. I saw him wink at her. I didn't know which one made me angrier, but somehow they had both won.
    "Fine," I said. "We'll go to tea. Huzzah."
    As soon as I conceded defeat, Mother turned her attention to the most important issue-tea-drinking clothes. We had tea-buying clothes, tea-brewing clothes, and tea-serving clothes, but we had no takingtea-with-the-Ogilvies clothes.
    Mother's solution lay in the bottom of the trunk in our chamber. She would wear her