dark places
beneath the trees and a katydid was singing in the rosebush beside the
portico at Arlington. The stars began to twinkle in the serene sky. The
lights of Washington flickered across the river. The Capitol building
gleamed, argus-eyed on the hill. Congress was in session, still
wrangling over the question of Slavery and its extension into the
territories of the West.

The laughter of youth and beauty sifted down from open windows.
Preparations were being hurried for the ball in honor of the departing
cadets--Custis Lee, his classmate, Jeb Stuart, and little Phil Sheridan
of Ohio whom they had invited in from Washington.

The fact that the whole family was going to West Point with the boys and
Colonel Robert E. Lee, the new Superintendent, made no difference. One
excuse for an old-fashioned dance in a Southern home was as good as
another. The main thing was to bring friends and neighbors, sisters and
cousins and aunts together for an evening of joy.

A whippo'will cried his weird call from a rendezvous in the shadows of
the lawn, as Sam entered the great hall and began to light the hundreds
of wax tapers in the chandeliers.

"Move dat furniture back now!" he cried to his assistants. "And mind yo'
p's and q's. Doan yer break nuttin."

His sable helpers quietly removed the slender mahogany and rosewood
pieces to the adjoining rooms. They laughed at Sam's new-found note of
dignity and authority.

He was acting butler to-night in Uncle Ben's place. No servant was
allowed to work when ill--no matter how light the tasks to which he was
assigned. Sam was but twenty years old and he had been given the honor
of superintending the arrangements for the dance. And, climax of all,
he had been made leader of the music with the sole right to call the
dances, although he played only the triangle in the orchestra. He was in
high fettle.

When the first carriage entered the grounds his keen ear caught the
crunch of wheels on the gravel. He hurried to call the mistress and
young misses to their places at the door. He also summoned the boys from
their rooms upstairs. He had seen the flash of spotless white in the
carriage. It meant beauty calling to youth on the hill. Sam knew.

Phil came downstairs with Custis. The spacious sweep of the hall, its
waxed floor clear of furniture, with hundreds of blinking candles
flashing on its polished surface, caught his imagination. It _was_ a
fairy world--this generous Southern home.