"The tournament to which we are gathered to-day is to us traditional; a
rite of antiquity and a monument of ancient generations. This relic of
the jousts of the Field of the Cloth-of-Gold points us back to an era of
knightly deeds, fidelity to sacred trust, obligation to duty and loyalty
to woman--the watchwords of true knighthood.

"We like to think that when our forefathers, offspring of men who
established chivalry, came from over-seas, they brought with them not
only this ancient play, but the precepts it symbolizes. We may be
proud, indeed, knowing that this is no hollow ceremonial, but an earnest
that the flower of knighthood has not withered in the world, that in an
age when the greed of gold was never so dazzling, the spirit of true
gallantry has not faded but blooms luxuriant in the sparkling dews of
the heart of this commonwealth.

"Yours is no bitter ride by haunted tarn or through enchanted forest--no
arrowed vigil on beleagered walls. You go not in gleaming steel and
fretted mail to meet the bite of blade and crash of battle-ax. Yet is
your trial one of honor and glory. I charge you that in the contest
there be no darkling envy for the victor, but only true comradeship and
that generosity which is the badge of noble minds.

"I summon you to bow the knee loyally before your queen. For as the
contest typifies life's battle, so shall she stand for you as the type
of womanhood, the crown of knighthood. The bravest thoughts of chivalry
circle about her. The stars of heaven only may be above her head, the
glowworm in the night-chill grasses the only fire at her feet; still the
spot that holds her is richer than if ceiled with cedar and painted with
vermilion, and sheds a light far for him who else were lampless.

"Most Noble Knights! In the name of that high tradition which this day
preserves! In the memory of those other knights who practised the
tourney in its old-time glory! In the sight of your Queen of Beauty! I
charge you, Southern gentlemen, to joust with that valor, fairness and
truth which are the enduring glories of the knighthood of Virginia!"

Over the ringing applause Nancy Chalmers looked at him with a little
smile, quizzical yet soft. "Dear old major!" she whispered to Betty
Page. "How he loves the center of the stage! And he's effective, too.
Thirty years ago, father says, he might have been anything he wanted
to--even United States Senator. But he would never leave the state. Not
that I blame