unks! We rummaged our
attic, too. I selected a yellow brocade trimmed with seed-pearls and
cascades of lace, and Alicia chose a skimpy blue satin frock with a
round neck, an upstanding lace collar, and absurd little puffed
sleeves. The Englishman was a Puritan, his daughter a Quakeress,
Mr. Johnson a Huguenot Lover, Miss Emmeline a Colonial Lady, Doctor
Geddes a bearded and belted Boyar, and The Author a painfully
realistic Mephistopheles, his eyebrows corked upward and his
mustache waxed into points. Mr. Jelnik sent regrets.

We had waxed the floors, and moved most of the furniture out of the
big front drawing-room; and this and the wide halls were used for a
ball-room, just as they had been used in the old days. The older
people played cards in the living-room and library. Every now and
then, between pauses, some masked and brilliant figure, like a
bright ghost from the past, would steal in to look over their
shoulders and whisper in their ears.

But those grandparents weren't content to sit down and play cards
while others footed it. Not they! They danced the Lancers, and a
polka or two, and waltzed and dipped and bowed to "Comin' through
the Rye" while all the masqueraders lined up against the walls to
admire and applaud. And after the gayest sort of a buffet supper,
the prizes that had been won by a belle and a trooper of '61--she in
her grandmother's crinoline and he in his grandfather's gray
jacket--were turned over by acclaim to a sprightly lady of seventy
and her sprightlier partner of seventy-five, for coming disguised as
old folks. The Author made the presentation speech. He began it by
saying that in South Carolina any man might well be excused for
falling in love with his grandmother.

Then the oldsters began to depart, with laughter and gay good
nights. It had been a delightful affair, one of those affairs that
go with a swing and a rhythm all their own, and that one remembers
with a pleasant taste in the mouth.

Only the more indefatigable youngsters remained. They hadn't the
slightest intention of foregoing half a night's dancing. They danced
in the hall to the music of the victrola, while the regular
musicians were being feted in the kitchen by Mary Magdalen,
Queenasheeba, and Fernolia.

I missed my fan, and went into the drawing-room to look for it. The
room was quite empty for the moment, and looked lonesome for all its
blazing lights. A cool, sweet night wind came in through the open
windows,