Part 9 (1/2)
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.