"I was dreaming and I apologize," said Harry. That minute in which he had seen so much, so far away, passed utterly, and in another minute both he and Dalton were dancing with Virginia girls, as fair as dreams to these two, who had looked so long only upon the tanned faces of soldiers. Both he and Dalton were at home in a half-hour. People in the Old South then, as in the New South now, are closely united by ties of kinship which are acknowledged as far as they run. One is usually a member of a huge clan and has all the privileges that clanship can confer. Kentucky was the daughter of Virginia, and mother and daughter were fond of each other, as they are to-day. After the third dance Harry was sitting with Rosamond Lawrence of Petersburg in a window seat. She was a slender blonde girl, and the dancing had made the pink in her cheeks deepen into a flush. "You're from Kentucky, I know," said Miss Lawrence, "but you haven't yet told me your town." "Pendleton. It's small but it's on the map. My father is a colonel in the Western army." "Aren't you a Virginian by blood? Most all Kentuckians are." "Partly. My great grandfather, though, was born in Maryland." "What was his name, Lieutenant Kenton?" "Henry Ware!" "Henry Ware! Kentucky's first and greatest governor." "Yes, he was my great grandfather. I'm proud to be his descendant." "I should think you would be." "But his wife, who was Lucy Upton, my great grandmother, was of Virginia blood, and all of the next two generations intermarried with people of Virginia stock." "Then you are a Kentuckian and a Virginian, too. I knew it! You have a middle name, haven't you?" "Yes." "Will you tell me what it is?" "Cary." The girl laughed. "Harry Cary Kenton. Why Cary is one of our best old Virginia names. Will you tell me too what was your mother's name before she was married?" "Parham." "Another. Oh, all this unravels finely. And what was your grandmother's name?" "Brent." "Nothing could be more Virginian than Brent. Oh, you're one of us, Lieutenant Kenton, a real Virginian of the true blood." "And heart and soul too!" giving her one of his finest young military glances. She laughed. It was only quick friendship between them and no more, and a half-hour later he was dancing with another Virginia girl, not so blonde, but just as handsome, and their talk was quite as friendly. Her name was Lockridge, and as they sat down near the musicians to rest, and listen a while, Harry saw a figure, slender and black-robed, pass. He knew at once who she was, and it had been predicted that he might meet her there, but she had stirred his curiosity a little, and thinking he might obtain further information he asked Miss Lockridge: "Who is the woman who just passed us?"