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Safely
on
board
the
train
for
Baltimore
,
he
put
his
head
from
the
window
.
"
You
'll
regret
this
!
"
he
shouted
.
"
Ha-ha
!
"
the
undergraduates
laughed
.
"
Ha-ha-ha
!
"
It
was
the
biggest
mistake
that
Yale
College
had
ever
made
...
.
In
1880
Benjamin
Button
was
twenty
years
old
,
and
he
signalised
his
birthday
by
going
to
work
for
his
father
in
Roger
Button
&
Co.
,
Wholesale
Hardware
.
It
was
in
that
same
year
that
he
began
"
going
out
socially
"
--
that
is
,
his
father
insisted
on
taking
him
to
several
fashionable
dances
.
Roger
Button
was
now
fifty
,
and
he
and
his
son
were
more
and
more
companionable
--
in
fact
,
since
Benjamin
had
ceased
to
dye
his
hair
(
which
was
still
grayish
)
they
appeared
about
the
same
age
,
and
could
have
passed
for
brothers
.
One
night
in
August
they
got
into
the
phaeton
attired
in
their
full-dress
suits
and
drove
out
to
a
dance
at
the
Shevlins
'
country
house
,
situated
just
outside
of
Baltimore
.
It
was
a
gorgeous
evening
.
A
full
moon
drenched
the
road
to
the
lustreless
colour
of
platinum
,
and
late-blooming
harvest
flowers
breathed
into
the
motionless
air
aromas
that
were
like
low
,
half-heard
laughter
.
The
open
country
,
carpeted
for
rods
around
with
bright
wheat
,
was
translucent
as
in
the
day
.
It
was
almost
impossible
not
to
be
affected
by
the
sheer
beauty
of
the
sky
--
almost
.
"
There
's
a
great
future
in
the
dry-goods
business
,
"
Roger
Button
was
saying
.
He
was
not
a
spiritual
man
--
his
aesthetic
sense
was
rudimentary
.
"
Old
fellows
like
me
ca
n't
learn
new
tricks
,
"
he
observed
profoundly
.
"
It
's
you
youngsters
with
energy
and
vitality
that
have
the
great
future
before
you
.
"
Far
up
the
road
the
lights
of
the
Shevlins
'
country
house
drifted
into
view
,
and
presently
there
was
a
sighing
sound
that
crept
persistently
toward
them
--
it
might
have
been
the
fine
plaint
of
violins
or
the
rustle
of
the
silver
wheat
under
the
moon
.
They
pulled
up
behind
a
handsome
brougham
whose
passengers
were
disembarking
at
the
door
.
A
lady
got
out
,
then
an
elderly
gentleman
,
then
another
young
lady
,
beautiful
as
sin
.
Benjamin
started
;
an
almost
chemical
change
seemed
to
dissolve
and
recompose
the
very
elements
of
his
body
.
A
rigour
passed
over
him
,
blood
rose
into
his
cheeks
,
his
forehead
,
and
there
was
a
steady
thumping
in
his
ears
.
It
was
first
love
.
The
girl
was
slender
and
frail
,
with
hair
that
was
ashen
under
the
moon
and
honey-coloured
under
the
sputtering
gas-lamps
of
the
porch
.
Over
her
shoulders
was
thrown
a
Spanish
mantilla
of
softest
yellow
,
butterflied
in
black
;
her
feet
were
glittering
buttons
at
the
hem
of
her
bustled
dress
.
Roger
Button
leaned
over
to
his
son
.
"
That
,
"
he
said
,
"
is
young
Hildegarde
Moncrief
,
the
daughter
of
General
Moncrief
.
"
