She looked at his serious face a moment and was silent.
“It’s queer how we run out of something to say, isn’t it?” she asked at length.
“I hadn’t thought of it.”
“Come up to the observatory and I’ll show you Lord Cornwallis’ look-out when he had his headquarters here during the Revolution.”
She lifted her soft white skirts and led the way up the winding mahogany stairs into the observatory from which the surrounding country could be seen for miles.
“Here Lord Cornwallis waited in vain for Colonel Ferguson to join him with his regiment from King’s Mountain.”
“Where my great-grandfather was drawing around him his cordon of death with his fierce mountain men!” interrupted Gaston.
“Was your great-grandfather in that battle?”
“Yes, it was fought on his land, and his two-story log house with the rifle holes cut in the chimney jambs still stands.”
“Then we will shake hands again,” she cried with enthusiasm, “for we are both children of the Revolution!”