to-night the mice certainly are going to play."

It seemed good to hear the voice of friends again, and I was nothing
loath to put aside business matters for the time and listen to Kitty
Stevenson's chatter. So, while I hesitated, Johnson had my hat and
stick.

The city of St. Louis, I repeat, was then the richest and gayest capital
of the West, the center of the commercial and social life of West and
South alike. Some of the most beautiful women of the world dwelt there,
and never, I imagine, had belles bolder suitors than these who passed
through or tarried with the Army. What wonder the saying that no Army
man ever passed St. Louis without leaving a heart, or taking one with
him? What wonder that these gay young beauties emptied many an Army
pocket for flowers and gems, and only filled many an Army heart with
despondency in return? Sackcloth lay beyond, on the frontier. Ball
followed ball, one packed reception another. Dinings and sendings of
flowers, and evening love-makings--these for the time seemed the main
business of Jefferson Barracks. Social exemptions are always made for
Army men, ever more gallant than affluent, and St. Louis entertained
these gentlemen mightily with no expectation of equivalent; yet
occasionally the sons of Mars gave return entertainments to the limits,
or more than the limits, of their purses. The officers' balls at these
barracks were the envy of all the Army; and I doubt if any regimental
bands in the service had reason for more proficiency in waltz time.

Of some of these things my hostess advised me as we sat, for the sake of
the shade, on the gallery of Number 16, where Stevenson's man of all
work had brought a glass-topped table and some glasses. Here Captain
Stevenson presently joined us, and after that escape was impossible.