“You are a trifle late, Mr. Mapleson, as I have already promised the first dance; but if you will come to me later, you shall write your name upon my card.” The young man frowned slightly, for he could never endure to have his wishes denied, but he was obliged to bow acquiescence, and turned away to seek a partner elsewhere. But he managed to station himself where he could watch the young couple incessantly, and not a movement, not a smile or glance escaped him. “They love each other,” he muttered, “at least he loves her, and it would not take much to make them acknowledged lovers. I shall be both watchful and diligent. I wish I knew the secret of the fellow’s life. It can’t be possible that he is anything to our family, and yet I am dusedly annoyed by the mystery.” When he went later, to claim Gladys’ promise to dance with him, he exerted himself more than he had ever done to be entertaining and agreeable. He told her about his Southern home, and the life he led when there. He described the luxuriant beauty which surrounded “Vue de l’Eau,” his father’s estate, and so called from the broad, sweeping view which they had of the beautiful James River, which lay right beneath them. He told her something of his courtly father and his stately, beautiful mother, and was really eloquent in his description of the spot that had given him birth. “I wish you could come to ‘Vue de l’Eau’ sometime, Miss Huntress; I am sure you would agree with me that there is nothing finer in the way of scenery, even on your far-famed Hudson,” he said, in conclusion. “Thank you, Mr. Mapleson; your descriptions are surely very enticing,” Gladys replied, with a smile. “I suppose your parents are both natives of the South?” “Yes, they were both born in Richmond, and my father was a colonel in the Confederate army at the time of our civil war; but, as it happened, his estate was not harmed, and it has since increased greatly in beauty and value.” “Do you remember much about the war?” Gladys inquired. “No, I knew very little about it at the time, of course, I was very young—only about eight years of age—and besides, my father sent my mother and me abroad, where we remained until the war was over.” “I suppose some of your people still feel antagonistic toward us Northerners?” Gladys remarked. “I presume there is a feeling of bitterness to some extent among the veterans, but, as to the generation that has been growing up since, I think we all feel that we are one nation, and our interests are with and for the Union. But if I had been ever so bitter toward Northern people, that feeling could not have possibly continued to exist after my present experience with them,” and Everet Mapleson’s glance told the young girl that for her sake alone he would have been willing to waive all past grievances, however aggravating. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes drooped.