The Fighting Shepherdess Part 9

Mrs. Taylor rose out of her hips until she looked all of seven feet tall to Hughie.

"You must excuse me, Mr. Disston." She hesitated, then added in explanation: "When we came West I told myself that I must not allow myself to deteriorate in rough surroundings, and I have made it a rule never to mingle with any but the best, Mr. Disston. My father,"

impressively, "was a prominent undertaker in Philadelphia, and as organist in a large Methodist church in that city I came in contact with the best people, so you understand," blandly, "don't you, why I cannot--"

The boy was red to the rim of his ears as he bowed formally to mother and daughter.

"I don't in the least," he replied, coldly.

The pain in Kate's eyes hurt him when he returned to his seat and she asked.

"They wouldn't come?"

He hesitated, then answered bluntly:

"No."

"H-had we better stay?"

"Yes," he replied, doggedly, "we'll stay."

Their efforts at conversation were not a success, and it was a relief to them both when Hiram Butefish, as Floor Manager, commanded everybody to take partners for a waltz.

Hughie arose and held out his hands to Kate.

"Hughie, I can't," she protested, shrinking back. "I'm--afraid."

"Yes, you can," determinedly. "Don't let these people think they can frighten you."

"I'll try because you want me to," she answered, "but it's all gone out of my head, and I know I can't."

"You'll get it directly," as he took her hand. "Just remember and count.

One, two, three--now!"

The bystanders t.i.ttered as she stumbled. The sound stung the boy like a whip, his black eyes flashed, but he said calmly enough:

"You make too much of it, Katie. Put your mind on the time and count."

She tried once more with no better result. She merely hopped, regardless of the music.

"I tell you I can't, Hughie," she said, despairingly. "Let's sit down."

"Never mind," soothingly as he acquiesced, "we'll try it again after a while. The next will very likely be a square dance and I can pilot you through that."

"You're so good!"

He looked away to avoid her grateful eyes. What would she say if she knew the reason he had brought her there? On a bet! He had seen only what appeared to be the humorous side. Hughie's own pride enabled him to realize how deep were the hurts she was trying so pluckily to hide. But why did they treat her so? Even her dreadful get-up seemed scarcely to account for it.

The next number, as he surmised, was a square dance.

"Take your pardners fer a quadrille!"

There was a scrambling and a sliding over the floor, accompanied by much laughter, to the quickly formed "sets."

"There's a place, Kate--on the side, too, so you have only to watch what the others do."

She hesitated, but he could see the longing in her eyes.

He taunted boyishly, "Don't be a 'fraidy cat,'" at which for the first time they both laughed with something of naturalness.

Mr. Scales of the Emporium and his plump bookkeeper were there, and the willowy barber with the stylish operator of the new telephone exchange, while Mr. and Mrs. Neifkins made the third couple, and Hugh and Kate completed the set.

There was an exchange of looks as the pair came up. The stylish operator lifted an eyebrow and drew down the corners of her mouth. The bookkeeper said, "Well!" with much significance,--but it remained for Mrs. Neifkins to give the real offense. The expression on her vapid face implied that she was aghast at their impudence. Gathering the fullness of her skirt as though to withdraw it from contamination she laid the other hand on her husband's arm:

"There's a place over there, Myron, where we can get in."

"It's nearer the music," said Neifkins with an apologetic grin to the others.

Those who stayed had something of the air of brazening it out. In vain Mr. Butefish called sternly for, "One more couple this way!"

It was Scales of the Emporium who said, finally:

"Looks like we don't dance--might as well sit down."

Every one acted on the suggestion with alacrity save Kate and Hughie.

When he turned to her, he saw that she was swallowing hard at the lump that was choking her.

"It's on account of me that they act so, Hughie! You stay if you want to; I'm going."

"Stay here?" he cried in boyish pa.s.sion. "You're the only lady in the room so far as I can see! What would I stay for?"

The citizens of Prouty were still deeply impressed by each other's pretensions, as the reputations the majority had left in their "home towns" had not yet caught up with them. Therefore, being greatly concerned about what his neighbor thought of him, no one would have dared be friendly to the ostracized couple even if he had the disposition.

Kate and Hughie walked out, very erect and looking straight ahead, followed by a feeling of satisfaction that this opportunity had presented itself for the new order to show where it stood in the matter of accepting doubtful characters on an equal social footing. It had properly vindicated itself of the charge that western society was lax in such matters. That they had hurt--terribly hurt--another, was of small importance.

CHAPTER V

FOR ALWAYS

In the little room upstairs, where less than an hour before she had dressed in happy excitement, Kate tore off the paper flowers and wild rose pods. She threw them in a heap on the floor--the cherished mitts, the bunting dress--while she sobbed in a child's abandonment, with the tears running unchecked down her cheeks. The music floating up the stairway and through the transom, the scuffling sound of sliding feet, added to her grief. She had wanted, oh, how she had wanted to dance!

The thought that Hughie had suffered humiliation because of her was little short of torture. But he had not deserted her--he had stuck--even in her misery she gloried in that--and how handsome he had looked! Why, there was not a man in the room that could compare with him! His clothes, the way he had borne himself, the something different about him which she could not a.n.a.lyze. It was a woman's pride that shone in her swollen red-lidded eyes as she told herself this, while she pinned on her shabby Stetson in trembling haste, buckled the spurs on her boots and s.n.a.t.c.hed up her ugly mackinaw.

Hugh was waiting for her in the office below.