"You have need to be," warned her Fairy.
The days grew more full of excitement. There were whisperings, hot speeches, and murmurings on every side.
But in the midst of the boil and trouble Sir Percival Grandison, and a few others, determined to give a ball in the Hall of Burgesses in hopes to break in upon the stormy feelings that were abroad, and perhaps bring about a more peaceful state of things.
The seat of government had been in Williamsburg until that fall of 1774. Then it was removed to Philadelphia.
There had been a splendid ball given in May, in honor of the wife and daughter of the governor, Lord Dunmore. And although the people neither liked nor respected the haughty, wilful governor, it yet was thought a proper thing to welcome with a gay gathering the ladies who had come to live at the "Governor's Palace," as his home was called.
Now the Hall of Burgesses was to see another brilliant affair, when people of rank and fashion would come together for a merry night, and Sir Percival secretly trusted that it might tone down the war spirit in his young son.
Maid Sally cast about in her mind, wondering if she could possibly get a peep at the splendid scene, for ah, what delight it would be to look upon it, if only for a moment!
"It will be a brave sight," said her Fairy, "but it may stir feelings in your soul it were better should be at rest."
"No matter for that," said beauty-loving Sally, "I must see it if I can."
Yet how could she bring it about? The church beadle, the dread man who went about, and, staff in hand, kept all younglings quiet in the meeting-house, the town-crier, who went up and down the roads and with a great bell in hand found a lost child or told unusual news, the constable and his two assistants, all these would be about the doors of the building so that the many coaches could drive up without confusion, and none but invited guests would dare to come too near.