Mrs. Madison's tact and grace had brought about a more congenial state of affairs even while wife of the secretary of state. There was in the conduct of both men and women a trifle of formality verging to a certain grandeur, yet gracious and truly courteous. There was no mad rush then for the first places.
Presently the company broke up into chatty little groups. Jaqueline found herself quite a center in the midst of other centers. Here were two or three elderly men who had known her father. She saw a young neighbor in the throng whose eyes expressed so much amazement that she could not help smiling. Lieutenant Ralston had come in his soldier trappings, and there was quite a sprinkling of military men, with others in the Continental costume that gave such a picturesque aspect.
Jaqueline had a fresh, girlish charm, and to-night she certainly looked lovely. Women and girls, when they were admitted to society, were expected to make themselves agreeable. No abstruse learning was required, and though they might have strong political preferences they were delicately veiled. Mrs. Madison had gone through four years of unusual stress, and the few enemies she had made were only those who envied her popularity. She had been discretion itself outwardly, and her opinions, her conferences, and her advice had been lodged only in her husband's bosom.
Jaqueline had no care, no experience to conceal, and she had already tried her prentice hand on the students at Williamsburg. And that natural art of making men pleased with themselves, that charming deference, so great a factor in that day, was hers in an eminent degree. Roger Carrington watched her as she caught up the merry badinage and returned it with gay sparkles, and the pretty air that was half girlish demureness, the other half the indefinable charm of budding womanhood.
Lieutenant Ralston took her in to the refreshment table set in the large dining room.
"I wonder when you will see Miss Floyd?" he began in a low tone. "I hoped to the last moment that Mrs. Jettson could persuade her parents to let her sister come for a few days. You go to the Pineries quite often?"
"Why, yes—some of us. Father has a truly fervent regard for grandmamma, and the girls come down frequently. They like better to come to us, I think. There is no real fun in staying at the Pineries. Of course when we were children we went dutifully."
She gave a soft, light laugh.
Ralston was considering. "Mrs. Jettson would be likely to know—of a visit?" hesitatingly.
"She might—if we sent her the word."