nning somewhat ahead of the moment.

The slowing of the car brought her back to the present, and she looked
up to see before them the great gate of Gladden Hall. She did not speak
till they had quite stopped.

Then, as her hand lay in his for farewell, "You are right in your
decision," she said softly. "This is your place. You are a Valiant of
Virginia. I didn't realize it before, but I am beginning to see all it
means to you."

Her voice held a lingering indefinable quality that was almost sadness,
and for that one slender instant, she opened on him the unmasked
batteries of her glorious gray eyes.

CHAPTER XXXV

"WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER"

The Tournament Ball at Damory Court that night was more than an event.
The old mansion was an irresistible magnet. The floor of its yellow
parlor was known to be of delectable hugeness. Its gardens were a
legend. The whole place, moreover, was steeped in the very odor of old
mystery and new romance. Small wonder that to this particular affair the
elect--the major was the high custodian of the rolls, his decisions
being as the laws of the Medes and Persians--came gaily from the
farthest county line, and the big houses of the neighborhood were
crammed with over-night guests.

By half past nine o'clock the phalanx of chaperons decreed by old
custom had begun to arrive, and the great iron gate at the foot of
the drive--erect and rustless now--saw an imposing processional of
carriages. These passed up a slope as radiant with the fairy light
of paper lanterns as a Japanese thoroughfare in festival season. The
colored bulbs swung moon-like from tree and shrub, painting their
rainbow lusters on grass and driveway. Under the high gray columns of
the porch and into the wide door, framed in its small leaded panes that
glowed with the merry light within, poured a stream of loveliness: in
carriage-wraps of light tints, collared and edged with fur or eider, or
wide-sleeved mandarin coats falling back from dazzling throats and arms,
hair swathed with chiffon against the night dews, and gallantly
cavaliered by masculine black and white.

These from their tiring-rooms overflowed presently, garbed like
dreams, to make obeisance to the dowagers and then to drift through
flower-lined corridors, the foam on recurrent waves of discovery.
Behind the rose-bower in the hall, which shielded a dozen colored
musicians--violins, cello, guitars and mandolins--came premonitory
chirps and s