bushy iron-gray hair
well oiled and combed in what used to be known as a roach, a style
popular in his early manhood. Some of the veterans were in
uniform--the blue or the gray. All wore white carnations in their
button-holes. The guests shook hands with the hosts and then moved on.
Those who had come merely to look on sought the chairs ranged against
the wall; others who wanted to dance were eagerly arranging for
partners if they were men, while the fair sex assumed a supreme
indifference. Colonel Crutcher busied himself giving out dancing cards
and seeing that the young people were introduced.

The first sensation of the evening was the entrance of Miss Ann
Peyton. With slow grace and dignity she sailed into the ballroom and
approached the receiving line alone. Mr. and Mrs. Bucknor had stopped
a moment to speak to some acquaintances and Mildred had intentionally
held back the crowd of young people comprising the house party from
Buck Hill, whispering that they really need not mix with the others.

"Of course we must speak to those ridiculous old men, but after that
we can just stay together. It will be lots more fun."

"Here comes Miss Ann Peyton!" the whisper went around the hall.

"Well, if it isn't Cousin Ann!" Big Josh Bucknor boomed to his
daughters.

"For goodness sake don't ask her to go home with us," begged those
ladies.

Big Josh slapped his leg and laughed aloud. Everything about Big Josh
was loud and hearty. He was a short, fat man with a big, red face and
a perfectly bald head. The Misses Bucknor were tall and aristocratic
in figure and bearing. They were constantly being mortified by their
father's tendency to make a noise and his unfailing habit of diverging
from the strict truth. But Big Josh was more popular in the county
than his conscientious daughters.

Old Billy had wormed his way into the ballroom with the pretext of
having to carry Miss Ann's shawl. Quietly he slipped up the stairs
into the balcony and, hiding behind the festooned bunting, he peeped
down on his beloved mistress as she stood, a quaint, old-fashioned
figure, making her bow to the receiving line.

"By gad, Miss Ann, you are looking fit," said Major Fitch. "We are
proud to have you with us. I hope you will save me a dance. Yes, yes!
We are going to have some reels and lancers and some good old time
quadrilles. If the young uns don't like it they can lump it. Here,
Colonel Crutcher, give Miss Ann a dance card. How about giv