So finally I got into Captain Stevenson’s uniform, which I did not dislike, although the coat was a trifle tight across the back.  At the domino mask they fetched I hesitated, for anything like mummery of this sort was always repugnant to me.  Not to comply with the order of the day, however, would now have made me seem rather churlish, so presently, although with mental reservations, I placed myself in the hands of my hostess, who joined me in full ball costume, mask and all.

“You may know me,” said Kitty, “by the pink flowers on my gown.  They’re printed on the silk, I suspect.  When Matt and I are a major, we’ll have them hand embroidered; but a captain’s pay day doesn’t come half often enough for real hand embroidery.”

“I should know you anywhere, Mrs. Kitty,” I said.  “But now as to this Ellen?  How shall I know her?”

“You will not know her at all.”

“Couldn’t you tell me something of how she will look?”

“No, I’ve not the slightest idea.  Ellen doesn’t repeat herself.  There’ll be a row of a dozen beauties, the most dangerous girls in all St. Louis.  You shall meet them all, and have your guess as to which is Ellen.”

“And shall I never know, in all the world?”

“Never in all the world.  But grieve not.  To-night joy is to be unconfined, and there is no to-morrow.”

“And one may make mad love to any?”

“To any whom one madly loves, of course; not to twelve at once.  But we must go.  See, isn’t it fine?”

Indeed the scene on Parade was now gayer than ever.  Laughter and chatter came from the crowded galleries all about the square, whose houses seemed literally full to overflowing.  Music mingled with the sound of merry voices, and forsooth now and again we heard the faint popping of corks along Officers’ Row.  The Army entertained.

At once, from somewhere on Parade, there came the clear note of a bugle, which seemed to draw the attention of all.  We could see, ascending the great flagstaff at the end of its halyard, the broad folds of the flag.  Following this was hoisted a hoop or rim of torches, which paused in such position that the folds of the flag were well illuminated.  A moment of silence came at that, and then a clapping of hands from all about the Parade as the banner floated out, and the voices of men, deep throated, greeting the flag.  Again the bands broke into the strains of the national anthem; but immediately they swung into a rollicking cavalry air.  As they played, all four of the bands marched toward the center of the Parade, and halted at the dancing pavilion, where the lighter instruments selected for the orchestra took their places at the head of the floor.

The throngs at the galleries began to lessen, and from every available roof of the Post there poured out incredible numbers of gayly-dressed ladies and men in uniform or evening garb, each one masked, and all given over fully to the spirit of the hour.