"Toney, when do you intend to publish your book of prophecies?"
"A prophet has no honor in his own country. But, do you not hear the sound of music in the ball-room? Let us go in,—
On with the dance! let joy be unconfined,
No sleep till morn when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet."
CHAPTER II.
In one of the border States of the South, in the midst of a romantic scenery, is situated the village of Bella Vista. Being connected by railway with a number of populous towns, it had become a place of resort during the season of summer for persons who desired to exchange the sultry atmosphere of cities for the cool breezes, shady groves, and pure fountains of this delightful retreat.
In the village had been erected a commodious hotel, which, during the months of summer, was filled with guests. The proprietor, desirous of contributing to the enjoyment of his patrons, had arranged for semi-weekly hops, which were attended not only by the inmates of the hotel, but by families from the village and from the surrounding country.