went up to dress for dinner. Meriweather had had a message from Carew calling him away. Sally stated with great regret that she must leave at once. Her dress for the dance that night had come from Baltimore.
"There may be something to be done to it, you know. And I must look my best for—Crispin."
She was off with a wave of her hand.
The dance was to be at the country club, after dinner and the tree at Round Hill.
"The country club is adorable," Hildegarde told him. "They have used an old manor house, and have made as few changes as possible. This part of the country used to be famous for its hunts, and that's the keynote of the decorations. It's wonderful, Crispin, to read in some of the old records that my grandfather, up there, was among the best of them."
Crispin had no hunting grandfathers. Or, rather, if they had hunted, it had not been with hounds and horses. They had conquered the virgin forests with axes and guns, but there had been no red coats, no banquets, no balls, in their social scheme. There had been judges among them, a clergyman or two; and there had been sporting blood and to spare. It had taken strength of fiber and a high spirit of adventure to pioneer in that western wilderness.
Yet Crispin's imagination was held by the thought of the history of this different country—a land where ships had come up from the sea by way of the blue bay, and where men of rank and title had arrived, bringing their luxurious habits with them, and had
