And then Tom Lindsay, a University of Virginia sophomore, swooped down on Betty; but just as he caught her hand, Fortescue, who knew both how to act and to think, put his arm around Betty’s waist, and they whirled off to the strains of “I’se gwine back to Dixie, where the orange-blossoms blow.” Betty, however, managed to put her hand for a second in Tom Lindsay’s and to say, as everybody said to everybody else:
“Oh, so glad to see you! Have just been dying of loneliness without you;” and when safely out of Tom’s hearing Betty whispered into Fortescue’s ear, “Such a nice boy! We used to play together. Of course, I have to say things like that to the child.” By which it may be seen that Miss Betty Beverley was a most unprincipled person when it came to dealing with personable young men, and did not have the New England conscience or any other conscience, where flattering a person of the other sex was concerned.
When the dance was over, Fortescue, like an able commander, following up his advantage, mentioned to Betty that they should accept Mrs. Lindsay’s suggestion and go into the library and have the coffee and biscuits which were always served immediately upon the arrival of guests at a Virginia party. This did not appeal particularly to Betty, but when Tom Lindsay came up and told her that he wanted to introduce his fellow students to her, and they would all go into the library together for coffee, Fortescue suddenly remembered that he must introduce his brother officers also to Betty. This was enough to send Betty rapidly into the library, where she found herself in an Elysium of University students and second lieutenants. Being a generous soul, Betty seized upon Sally Carteret, a tall, handsome girl, and divided her plunder of students and officers with Sally. It was only necessary to mention that Mr. Fortescue and his friends would stay over Christmas day, for Sally to invite them to the Christmas hunt and breakfast at Bendover. Seeing there was no chance of monopolizing Betty, Fortescue found Sally, with her gypsy beauty, by no means a bad substitute.
Between the dances, raids were made into the library, where from a big table hot coffee and buttered biscuits, with “old ham” that had been cured in the smoke from hickory ashes for a couple of years—a great Virginia luxury—and a round of beef, were served as a mere preliminary to the big supper which was coming later. By the great fireplace stood a table with a huge bowl of apple toddy. The older gentlemen, who were at cards in the drawing-room with prim, elderly ladies, made frequent incursions upon the apple toddy. The ladies carefully avoided this seductive brew and kept to weak tea and thin biscuit. Over all was the true spirit of Christmas gaiety, the heart-whole and heart-given hospitality of a hospitable people.
The dancing went on gaily until half past eleven o’clock, when the concoction of the Christmas eggnog began. Every gentleman was supplied with a silver fork and a plate in which had been broken the whites of four eggs. They had to be beaten so stiff that the plate could be held over the head of a lady without dropping upon her. Such was the tradition, but only a few ladies took the risk, holding out, meanwhile, their dainty handkerchiefs over their heads to catch the whipped-up whites in case they fell. Betty was one of the venturesome ones, and Fortescue was her cavalier, and turned the plate over her head, but not a drop fell upon Betty’s outspread lace handkerchief. Then the whites of the eggs were mixed with the beaten up yolks and the whipped cream and the “stiffening” as Major Lindsay called it, who, as host, did the mixing, and then ladled out the foaming eggnog. At twelve o’clock exactly Major Lindsay held up his glass and shouted, “Merry Christmas!” and a great chorus went up of “Merry Christmas! Merry, merry Christmas!” Then, Isaac Minkins, with a magnificent flourish of his bow, burst forth into the strains of “The Flowing Bowl.” All joined in the great Christmas song, Major Lindsay’s big baritone leading the chorus:
“For to-night we’ll merry, merry be,
For to-night we’ll merry, merry be,
For to-night we’ll merry, merry be,
And to-morrow we’ll be sober.”
Then the gentlemen roared out: