"I should know you anywhere, Mrs. Kitty," I said. "But now as to this
Ellen? How shall I know _her_?"

"You will not know her at all."

"Couldn't you tell me something of how she will look?"

"No, I've not the slightest idea. Ellen doesn't repeat herself. There'll
be a row of a dozen beauties, the most dangerous girls in all St. Louis.
You shall meet them all, and have your guess as to which is Ellen."

"And shall I never know, in all the world?"

"Never in all the world. But grieve not. To-night joy is to be
unconfined, and there is no to-morrow."

"And one may make mad love to any?"

"To any whom one madly loves, of course; not to twelve at once. But we
must go. See, isn't it fine?"

Indeed the scene on Parade was now gayer than ever. Laughter and chatter
came from the crowded galleries all about the square, whose houses
seemed literally full to overflowing. Music mingled with the sound of
merry voices, and forsooth now and again we heard the faint popping of
corks along Officers' Row. The Army entertained.

At once, from somewhere on Parade, there came the clear note of a bugle,
which seemed to draw the attention of all. We could see, ascending the
great flagstaff at the end of its halyard, the broad folds of the flag.