On the third of August—­the precise date named by Henry Thornhill—­Arnold took command of the camp and Irons assumed his new duties.  The Major-General rode with Washington every day until, on the fourteenth of September, the latter set out with three aides and Colonel Binkus on his trip to Connecticut.  Solomon rode with the party for two days and then returned.  Thereafter Arnold left the work of his office to Jack and gave his time to the enjoyment of the company of his wife and a leisure that suffered little interruption.  For him, grim visaged war had smoothed his wrinkled front.  Like Richard he had hung up his bruised arms.  The day of Washington’s departure, Mrs. Arnold invited Jack to dinner.  The young man felt bound to accept this opportunity for more friendly relations.

Mrs. Arnold was a handsome, vivacious, blonde young woman of thirty.  The officer speaks in a letter of her lively talk and winning smiles and splendid figure, well fitted with a costume that reminded him of the court ladies in France.

“What a contrast to the worn, patched uniforms to be seen in that camp!” he added.

Soon after the dinner began, Mrs. Arnold said to the young man, “We have heard of your romance.  Colonel and Mrs. Hare and their young daughter spent a week in our home in Philadelphia on their first trip to the colonies.  Later Mrs. Hare wrote to my mother of their terrible adventure in the great north bush and spoke of Margaret’s attachment for the handsome boy who had helped to rescue them, so I have some right to my interest in you.”

“And therefor I thank you and congratulate myself,” said the young man.  “It is a little world after all.”

“And your story has been big enough to fill it,” she went on.  “The ladies in Philadelphia seem to know all its details.  We knew only how it began.  They have told us of the thrilling duel and how the young lovers were separated by the war and how you were sent out of England.”

“You astonish me,” said the officer.  “I did not imagine that my humble affairs would interest any one but myself and my family.  I suppose that Doctor Franklin must have been talking about them.  The dear old soul is the only outsider who knows the facts.”

“And if he had kept them to himself he would have been the most inhuman wretch in the world,” said Mrs. Arnold.  “Women have their rights.  They need something better to talk about than Acts of Parliament and taxes and war campaigns.  I thank God that no man can keep such a story to himself.  He has to have some one to help him enjoy it.  A good love-story is like murder.  It will out.”

“It has caused me a lot of misery and a lot of happiness,” said the young man.

“I long to see the end of it,” the woman went on.  “I happen to know a detail in your story which may be new to you.  Miss Hare is now in New York.”

“In New York!”

“Oddso!  In New York!  We heard in Philadelphia that she and her mother had sailed with Sir Roger Waite in March.  How jolly it would be if the General and I could bring you together and have a wedding at headquarters!”