“Listen on the way down, and you can do the radio work on the way back. Radio procedure is an essential part of flying, and the key to it is to know what the controller is going to say next. Soon, we’ll get a clearance to a higher altitude, so you can expect that.”

The controller called and cleared them to their cruising altitude of thirty-four thousand feet, and Stone showed Peter how to change the altitude in the autopilot and start the climb.

“The autopilot really flies the airplane, doesn’t it,” Peter asked, “and you just tell it what to do?”

“Correct, but you also have to be able to do everything manually, if the autopilot fails for some reason.”

“Has it ever failed?”

“Not in this airplane, yet, but in my old airplane I once had a complete electrical failure and had to hand-fly it into Teterboro, using a handheld radio.”

“Wow,” Peter said.

“They don’t often let you do a visual approach at Teterboro,” Stone said. “They like everybody lined up on the instrument approach. I had to declare an emergency to get permission for a visual that day.”

An hour later they were descending into Charlottesville, and once on the ground they taxied to Arrington’s hangar, where the Gulfstream was kept. One of the pilots was waiting for them with a large van. He stowed their luggage and drove them to the house, forty minutes away, while a worker put the Mustang into the hangar with the G-III.

There was a buzz in the van when everyone saw the driveway, lined with a dozen huge oak trees on each side, and at the end, the house, perched on a little rise.

“This is very impressive,” Sean Patrick said.

“Most of these trees predate the original house,” Stone said. “Arrington bought three or four other mature trees and had them moved here to fill in any gaps. They seem to have taken root successfully.”

Arrington met them on the front porch, and introductions were made. “The photographer and crew from Architectural Digest just left,” she said to Stone. “They seemed to get everything they wanted.” She led the party into the house and gave them a quick tour of the ground floor—a broad hallway that ran through the house, with twin staircases on either side; a big drawing room and the dining room to the right; to the left the library and the kitchen at the rear of the house. When that was done she led everyone upstairs and showed them to their rooms, while staff delivered the luggage. She let everyone know that drinks would be in the drawing room at six-thirty.

“We’re at the end of the south wing,” she said, taking Stone’s hand. She led him into the master suite, a sunny sitting room and bedroom, with a dressing room and bath on each side.