What a beautiful waltz! Sheextended her hands slightly, closed her eyes and swayed with the sad haunting rhythm. There wassomething about the tragic melody and Lorena’s lost love that mingled with her own excitementand brought a lump into her throat. Then, as if brought into being by the waltz music, sounds floated in from the shadowy moonlitstreet below, the trample of horses’ hooves and the sound of carriage wheels, laughter on the warmsweet air and the soft acrimony of negro voices raised in argument over hitching places for thehorses. There was confusion on the stairs and light-hearted merriment, the mingling of girls’ freshvoices with the bass notes of their escorts, airy cries of greeting and squeals of joy as girlsrecognized friends from whom they had parted only that afternoon. Suddenly the hall burst into life. It was full of girls, girls who floated in butterfly bright dresses,hooped out enormously, lace pantalets peeping from beneath; round little white shoulders bare, andfaintest traces of soft little bosoms showing above lace flounces; lace shawls carelessly hangingfrom arms; fans spangled and painted, fans of swan’s-down and peacock feathers, dangling atwrists by tiny velvet ribbons; girls with masses of golden curls about their necks and fringed with their dancing curls. Laces and silks and braid and ribbons, allblockade run, all the more precious and more proudly worn because of it, finery flaunted with anadded pride as an extra affront to the Yankees. Not all the Sowers of the town were standing in tribute to the leaders of the Confederacy. Thesmallest, the most fragrant blossoms bedecked the girls. Tea roses tucked behind pink ears, capejessamine and bud roses in round little garlands over cascades of side curls, blossoms thrustdemurely into satin sashes, flowers that before the night was over would find their way into thebreast pockets of gray uniforms as treasured souvenirs.