“But of course you know all about him?”

“No,” said he, honest, but looking rather annoyed at having given her such an opening, “I know only what he told me.”

“Sharlee,” came her mother’s voice from the rear, “are you sitting on the cold stone?”

“No, mother.  Two mats and a cushion.”

“Well, he is not a Union officer,” said Sharlee to Queed, “for if he were, he would not be bitter.  All the bitterness nowadays comes from the non-combatants, the camp-followers, the sutlers, and the cowards.  Look, Mr. Queed! Look!”

The street had become a tumult, the shouting grew into a roar.  Two squares away the head of the parade swept into view, and drew steadily nearer.  Mr. Queed looked, and felt a thrill in despite of himself.

At the head of the column came the escort, with the three regimental bands, mounted and bicycle police, city officials, visiting military, sons of veterans, and the militia, including the resplendent Light Infantry Blues of Richmond, a crack drill regiment with an honorable history dating from 1789, and the handsomest uniforms ever seen.  Behind the escort rode the honored commander-in-chief of the veterans, and staff, the grand marshal and staff, and a detachment of mounted veterans.  The general commanding rode a dashing white horse, which he sat superbly despite his years, and received an ovation all along the line.  An even greater ovation went to two festooned carriages which rolled behind the general staff:  they contained four black-clad women, no longer young, who bore names that had been dear to the hearts of the Confederacy.  After these came the veterans afoot, stepping like youngsters, for that was their pride, in faded equipments which contrasted sharply with the shining trappings of the militia.  They marched by state divisions, each division marshaled into brigades, each brigade subdivided again into camps.  At the head of each division rode the major-general and staff, and behind each staff came a carriage containing the state’s sponsor and maids of honor.  And everywhere there were bands, bands playing “Dixie,” and the effect would have been even more glorious, if only any two of them had played the same part of it at the same time.

Everybody was standing.  It is doubtful if in all the city there was anybody sitting now, save those restrained by physical disabilities.  Conversation on the Weyland piazza became exceedingly disjointed.  Everybody was excitedly calling everybody else’s attention to things that seemed particularly important in the passing spectacle.  To Queed the amount these people appeared to know about it all was amazing.  All during the afternoon he heard Sharlee identifying fragments of regiments with a sureness of knowledge that he, an authority on knowledge, marveled at.

The escort passed, and the officers and staffs drew on.  The fine-figured old commander-in-chief, when he came abreast, turned and looked full at the Weyland piazza, seemed to search it for a face, and swept his plumed hat to his stirrup in a profound bow.  The salute was greeted on the porch with a burst of hand-clapping and a great waving of flags.