dreams that night of a wolf
swimming up to her door.

CHAPTER XIX

WESTOVER, THE HOME OF A COLONIAL BELLE

On the following day, Gadabout scrambled across the flats out into the
James again, intent upon a visit to Westover.

Unlike Brandon, Westover stands within sight from the river; and we had
a good view of the old homestead as we passed by to make our landing at
the steamer pier which is a little above the house.

There was a break in the tree-fringe on the north bank of the James. A
sea-wall extended along the water's edge, and from either end of it a
brick wall ran far inland. Within the spacious enclosure, the grounds
swept back and up from the river, with noble trees and close-cut lawn;
and crowning the slope stood the beautiful old mansion. A stately
central building of red brick, with dormer windows in its steep-pitched
roof, rose between low flanking corridors and wings like some overlord
with his faithful vassals in attendance. In neutral brown the quiet
river, in shadowy green the sloping lawn, in dull red and gleaming
white the lofty, many-windowed front of Westover--a picture that drew
Gadabout in close to the shoals that day.

The bit of history that goes with the picture gives us many glimpses of
old-time elegance and romance, and helps us to a good idea of some of
the pretentious phases of colonial life. It runs in this way.

Back in the beginnings of things American, when the dissatisfied
planters at James Towne were starting out to establish their estates
along the river, these lands by Herring Creek attracted attention.
Under the name of Westover they soon became the property of the Byrd
family, and rose to prominence among colonial estates in connection
with the fortunes of that distinguished house.

The golden age of Westover was in the days of the second William Byrd,
who was one of the most striking figures of colonial times. Handsome,
learned, witty, and capable; with exquisite taste and elegant culture
fashioned in the friendship of English noblemen; with almost endless
acres and boundless wealth--a cavalier of cavaliers was this
London-bred Virginian.

[Illustration: RIVERWARD FRONT OF WESTOVER.]

It is surprising that this _beau-ideal_ should have remained spouseless
for two years after coming into his estate. He must have been
considered the most fascinating matrimonial possibility in the colony.
One can imagine how in a gathering of Virginia maidens intent upon
their