Paul’s Church; a Christmas turkey stuffed with the traditional cornbread and oysters, and a crystal bowl full of cranberry sauce; gifts from Papa; eggnog and favorite carols sung around the piano with a few friends, whose political sympathies were in agreement with the Chandlers’ Confederate ones. On the morning of the Winstead ball, Julia and Carolyn pleaded joint headaches. “Too much Christmas frivolity,” Julia whispered to Mother when she came to inquire after their health. In reality, the girls were in a fever of excitement, while they attempted to rest up and prepare their clothes for the evening’s prohibited adventure. The daytime hours crept by at a snail’s pace. Hettie, by necessity, knew their plans since she had to let them in the back door upon their return from the party. Nevertheless, she gave the sisters a stern look when she brought up their suppers on a tray. “You are asking for trouble,” she scolded them in a low voice while she watched them wolf down cold turkey, buttered bread and pickles.
