r on the street-door, and in a few moments old Billy appeared to
announce "Captain Fraser."

A look of slight annoyance passed over the face of the elder lady as
she arranged the snowy ruffles of her cap, while the deepened color
and sparkling eyes of the younger, with the almost imperceptible
sarcasm of her smile, seemed to indicate mingled pleasure, defiance
and contempt. The visitor who entered was resplendent in the gay
scarlet and glittering lace of the British uniform, and his redundancy
of ruffles, powder and sword-knot betokened the military exquisite,
his bearing presenting a singular mixture of high breeding and haughty
insolence. With his right hand laid upon the spot where his heart
was supposed to be, while his left daintily supported the leathern
scabbard of his sword, he bowed until the stiff little queue of his
curled wig pointed straight at the heavy cornice. The ladies swept the
floor with their graceful courtesies, that of the younger presenting
the least touch of exaggeration as with folded arms and downcast eyes
she sank backward before her guest. Another knock was heard, and when
the names of three more of the garrison officers were announced, Miss
Elliott whispered to Billy a hasty message to some of her fair friends
in the neighborhood to come in and help her entertain them. These
impromptu parties were quite common, and in a little while the room
was sparkling with beauty, gallantry and wit. It may seem strange that
the patriotic belles of the day, the fair Brewtons and Pinckneys
and Rutledges, the Ravenels and Mazycks, should have cultivated such
pleasant associations with the enemies of their country. But among the
officers they had many old friends and acquaintances of _ante-bellum_
days, and not a few marriages had established even closer ties. Thus,
Lord Campbell, the last royal governor, was husband to Sarah Izard,
the sister of General Ralph Izard, who was brother-in-law to our
former acquaintance, Rebecca Stead; and even General Washington had
invited Admiral Fairfax to dine, on the ground that a state of war did
not preclude the exchange of social civilities between gentlemen who
served under opposing flags.

Mrs. Elliott received the attentions of her daughter's visitors with
dignified grace, but with a degree of reserve which it was impossible
altogether to conceal, and to which the officers had become too much
accustomed to feel any offence; while the younger ladies drove the
keen