Everywhere was the sound of wind in the leaves.

When the riders and the dancing master, who was afoot, reached the crest of the little mountain, shaven and planed by the hand of man into a fair plateau, the moon was shining brightly.

In the silver light, across the dim lawns, classically simple, grave, and fair, rose the house that Jefferson had built.

The gate clanged behind the party from Charlottesville, a dog barked, a light flared, voices of negroes were heard, and hurrying feet from the house quarter.

Upon the lawn to the right and left of the mansion were two toy houses, tiny brick offices used by Jefferson for various matters.