revolution. He could not compromise.

His rapidly growing power was an ominous thing in the history of the
South. Lee studied his face with increasing fascination.

In this gathering no man or woman thought of wealth as the source of
power or end of life. No one spoke of it. Office, rank, position,
talent, beauty, charm, personality--these things alone could count.
These men and women _lived_. They did not merely exist. They were making
the history of the world and yet they refused to rush through life.
Their souls demanded hours of repose, of thought, of joy and they took
them.

Toombs' pocket was stuffed with a paper-backed edition of a French play.
It was his habit to read them in the original with keen enjoyment in
moments of leisure. The hum of social life filled the room and strife
was forgotten. Douglas and Toombs were boys again and Lee was their
companion.

Mary Lee managed to avoid Stuart and took her seat beside Phil
Sheridan--not to tease her admirer but to give to her Western guest
the warmest welcome of the old South. She knew the dinner would be a
revelation to Phil and she would enjoy his appreciation.

The long table groaned under the luxuries of the season. Course
succeeded course, cooked with a delicate skill unknown to the world of
to-day. The oysters, fresh, fat, luscious, were followed by diamond-back
terrapin stew as a soup.

Phil tasted it and whispered to his fair young hostess.