Kennedy Square Part 7

"No, Mr. Temple; I had thought of keeping her, sir," the young man rejoined blandly, greatly flattered at having been specially singled out by the distinguished Mr. Temple. "But if you are thinking of buying my mare, I should be most delighted to consider it. If you will permit me--I will call upon you in the morning." This last came with elaborate effusiveness. "But you haven't a drop of anything to drink, Mr. Temple, nor you either, doctor! Egad! What am I thinking of! Come, won't you join me? The colonel's mixtures are--"

"Better wait, Mr. Willits," interrupted St. George calmly and with the air of one conversant with the resources of the house. "Alec has just taken out a half-emptied bowl of toddy." He had seen at a glance that Teackle's diagnosis of the young man's condition was correct.

"Then let us have a swig at the colonel's port--it's the best in the county."

"No, hold on till the punch comes. You young fellows don't know how to take care of your stomachs. You ought to stick to your tipple as you do to your sweetheart--you should only have one."

"--At a time," laughed Teackle.

"No, one ALL the time, you dog! When I was your age, Mr. Willits, if I drank Madeira I continued to drink Madeira, not to mix it up with everything on the table."

"By Jove, you're right, Mr. Temple! I'm sticking to one girl--Miss Kate's my girl to-night. I'm going to dance the Virginia reel with her."

St. George eyed him steadily. He saw that the liquor had already reached his head or he would not have spoken of Kate as he did. "Your choice is most admirable, Mr. Willits," he said suavely, "but let Harry have Miss Kate to-night," adding, as he laid his hand confidingly on the young man's shoulder--"they were made to step that dance together."

"But she said she would dance it with me!" he flung back--he did not mean to be defrauded.

"Really?" It was wonderful how soft St. George's voice could be. Teackle could not have handled a refractory patient the better.

"Well, that is," rejoined Willits, modified by Temple's tone--"she is to let me know--that was the bargain."

Still another soft cadence crept into St. George's voice: "Well, even if she did say she would let you know, do be a little generous. Miss Seymour is always so obliging; but she ought really to dance the reel with Harry to-night." He used Kate's full name, but Willits's head was buzzing too loudly for him to notice the delicately suggested rebuke.

"Well, I don't see that, and I'm not going to see it, either. Harry's always coming in between us; he tried to get Miss Kate away from me a little while ago, but he didn't succeed."

"n.o.blesse oblige, my dear Mr. Willits," rejoined St. George in a more positive tone. "He is host, you know, and the ball is given to Miss Seymour, and Harry can do nothing else but be attentive." He felt like strangling the cub, but it was neither the time nor place--nothing should disturb Kate's triumph if he could help it. One way was to keep Willits sober, and this he intended to do whether the young man liked it or not--if he talked to him all night.

"But it is my dance," Willits broke out. "You ask him if it isn't my dance--he heard what Miss Kate said. Here comes Harry now."

Like a breath of west wind our young prince blew in, his face radiant, his eyes sparkling. He had entirely forgotten the incident on the stairs in the rapture of Kate's kisses, and Willits was once more one of the many guests he was ready to serve and be courteous to.

"Ah, gentlemen--I hope you have everything you want!" he cried with a joyous wave of his hand. "Where will I get an ice for Kate, Uncle George? We are just about beginning the Virginia reel and she is so warm. Oh, we have had such a lovely waltz! Why are you fellows not dancing? Send them in, Uncle George." He was br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with happiness.

Willits moved closer: "What did you say? The Virginia reel? Has it begun?" His head was too muddled for quick thinking.

"Not yet, Willits, but it will right away--everybody is on the floor now," returned Harry, his eyes in search of something to hold Kate's refreshment.

"Then it is my dance, Harry. I thought the reel was to be just before supper or I would have hunted Miss Kate up."

"So it is," laughed Harry, catching up an empty plate from the serving table and moving to where the ices were spread. "You ought to know, for you told her yourself. It is about to begin. They were taking their partners when I left."

"Then that's MY reel," Willits insisted. "You heard what Miss Kate said, Harry--that's what I told you too, Mr. Temple," and he turned to St.

George for confirmation.

"Oh, but you are mistaken, Langdon," continued Harry, bending over the dish. "She said she would decide later on whether to give you the reel or a schottische--and she has. Miss Kate dances this reel with me."

There was a flash in his eye as he spoke, but he was still the host.

"And I suppose you will want the one after supper too," snapped Willits.

He had edged closer and was now speaking to Harry's bent back.

"Why, certainly, if Miss Kate is willing and wishes it," rejoined Harry simply, still too intent on having the ice reach his sweetheart at the earliest possible moment to notice either Willits's condition or his tone of voice.

Willits sprang forward just as Harry regained his erect position. "No you won't, sir!" he cried angrily. "I've got some rights here and I'm going to protect them. I'll ask Miss Kate myself and find out whether I am to be made a fool of like this," and before St. George could prevent started for the door.

Harry dropped the plate on the table and blocked the enraged man's exit with his outstretched arm. He was awake now--wide awake--and to the cause.

"You'll do nothing of the kind, Langdon--not in your present state. Pull yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken of in that way and you know it. Now don't be foolish--stay here with Uncle George and the doctor until you cool down. There are the best of reasons why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain them now."

"Neither am I, Mr. Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way by you or anybody else. I don't care a rap for your explanations. Get out of my way, or you'll be sorry," and he sprang one side and flung himself out of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of his words.

St. George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand laid it on Harry's arm.

"Steady, my boy! Let him go--Kate will take care of him."

"No! I'll take care of him!--and now!" He was out of the room and the door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.

St. George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his head in a.s.sent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse of white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St. George and the doctor following close behind.

Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's approaching figure--the others she did not see. Willits reached her first:

"Miss Kate, isn't this my dance?" he burst out--"didn't you promise me?"

Kate started and for a moment her face flushed. If she had forgotten any promise she had made it certainly was not intentional. Then her mind acted. There must be no bad blood here--certainly not between Harry and Willits.

"No, not quite that, Mr. Willits," she answered in her sweetest voice, a certain roguish coquetry in its tones. "I said I'd think it over, and you never came near me, and so Harry and I are--"

"But you DID promise me." His voice could be heard all over the room--even the colonel, who was talking to a group of ladies, raised his head to listen, his companions thinking the commotion was due to the proper arranging of the dance.

Harry's eyes flashed; angry blood was mounting to his cheeks. He was amazed at Willits's outburst.

"You mean to contradict Miss Kate! Are you crazy, Willits?"

"No, I am entirely sane," he retorted, an ugly ring in his voice.

Everybody had ceased talking now. Good-natured disputes over the young girls were not uncommon among the young men, but this one seemed to have an ominous sound. Colonel Rutter evidently thought so, for he had now risen from his seat and was crossing the room to where Harry and the group stood.

"Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane," rejoined Harry in cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the better prepared to defend her.

Willits's lip curled. "I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct, although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card, Miss Kate," and he caught it from her unresisting hand. "There--what did I tell you!" This came with a flare of indignation. "It was a blank when I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!" Here he faced Harry. "That's your handwriting--I'll leave it to you, Mr. Temple, if it isn't his handwriting."

Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm--she had read Harry's face and knew what was behind it.

"Take that back, Langdon--quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't say things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate asked me to. Take it back, sir--NOW!--and then make an humble apology to Miss Seymour.

"I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here--take her--and take this with her!" and he tore Kate's card in half and threw the pieces in his host's face.

With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as if to strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full height and confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color gone from her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly, was what puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole room on the dispute.