These things added a zest to a party long looked forward to amongst Virginia’s intimates.  In those days young ladies did not “come out” so frankly as they do now.  Mothers did not announce to the world that they possessed marriageable daughters.  The world was supposed to know that.  And then the matrimonial market was feverishly active.  Young men proposed as naturally as they now ask a young girl to go for a walk,—­and were refused quite as naturally.  An offer of marriage was not the fearful and wonderful thing—­to be dealt with gingerly—­which it has since become.  Seventeen was often the age at which they began.  And one of the big Catherwood boys had a habit of laying his heart and hand at Virginia’s feet once a month.  Nor did his vanity suffer greatly when she laughed at him.

It was with a flutter of excitement, therefore, that Miss Carvel’s guests flitted past Jackson, who held the door open obsequiously.  The boldest of them took a rapid survey of the big parlor, before they put foot on the stairs to see whether Mr. Brice had yet arrived.  And if their curiosity held them too long, they were usually kissed by the Colonel.

Mr. Carvel shook hands heartily with the young mean and called them by their first names, for he knew most of their fathers and grandfathers.  And if an older gentleman arrived, perhaps the two might be seen going down the hall together, arm in arm.  So came his beloved enemy, Judge Whipple, who did not make an excursion to the rear regions of the house with the Colonel; but they stood and discussed Mr. President Buchanan’s responsibility for the recent panic, until the band, which Mr. Hopper had stationed under the stairs, drowned their voices.

As we enter the room, there stands Virginia under the rainbowed prisms of the great chandelier, receiving.  But here was suddenly a woman of twenty-eight, where only this evening we knew a slip of a girl.  It was a trick she had, to become majestic in a ball-gown.  She held her head high, as a woman should, and at her slender throat glowed the pearls of Dorothy Manners.

The result of all this was to strike a little awe into the souls of many of her playmates.  Little Eugenie nearly dropped a curtsey.  Belle Cluyme was so impressed that she forgot for a whole hour to be spiteful.  But Puss Russell kissed her on both cheeks, and asked her if she really wasn’t nervous.

“Nervous!” exclaimed Jinny, “why?”

Miss Russell glanced significantly towards the doorway.  But she said nothing to her hostess, for fear of marring an otherwise happy occasion.  She retired with Jack Brim made to a corner, where she recited:—­

     “Oh young Lochinvar is come out of the East;
     Of millions of Yankees I love him the least.”

“What a joke if he should come!” cried Jack.

Miss Russell gasped.