All the lanterns were lighted now, hanging like strings of stars around the porches, and from tree to tree.

Violins played softly, somewhere out of sight, and everywhere on the night air was the breath of myriads of roses.

Handsomely dressed people passed in and out of the house, and across the lawn.

The light, the music, and the perfume made the place seem enchanted ground to the bewildered little John Jay, and when he reached the illuminated fountain just in front of the house, he clung to Mammy's skirts as if he had suddenly found himself in some strange Eden, and was frightened by its unearthly beauty.
The fountain into which, only that morning, he had thrust his hot little face for a drink, now seemed bewitched.

It was no longer a flow of sparkling water, but of splashing rainbows.