Part 7 (1/2)

”Yes,” blurted out d.i.c.k. ”Why have you kept me at such a distance all the evening? Why would you not dance with me? and you gave Hamilton three valses. It was not like you, Nan, to treat me so,--and on my birthday too,” went on the poor fellow, with a pathos that brought another sort of gleam to Nan's eyes, only she still laughed.

”Ah, you foolish boy!” she said, and gave his coat-sleeve a coaxing little pat. ”I would rather have danced with you than Mr. Hamilton, though he does reverse beautifully, and I never knew any one who waltzed more perfectly.”

”Oh, I do not presume to rival Hamilton,” began d.i.c.k hotly, but she silenced him.

”Listen to me, you foolish d.i.c.k! I would have danced with you, and willingly, but I knew my duty better, or rather I knew yours. You were a public man to-day; the eyes of the county were upon you. You had to pay court to the big ladies, and to take no notice of poor little me.

I sent you away for your own good, and because I valued your duty above my pleasure,” continued this heroic young person, in a perfectly satisfied tone.

”And you wanted to dance with me, Nan, and not with that goose of a Hamilton?” in a wheedling voice.

”Yes, d.i.c.k; but he is not a goose for all that: he is more of a swan in my opinion.”

”He is a conceited a.s.s!” was the very unexpected reply, which was a little hard on d.i.c.k's chum, who was in many ways a most estimable young man and vastly his superior. ”Why are you laughing, when you know I hate prigs? and Hamilton is about the biggest I ever knew.” But this did not mend matters, and Nan's laugh still rang merrily in the darkness.

”What are those two doing?” asked Phillis, trying to peep between the lilac-bushes, but failing to discover more than the white glimmer of Nan's shawl.

Nan's laugh, though it was full of sweet triumph, only irritated d.i.c.k; the lord of the evening was still too sore and humiliated by all these rebuffs and repulses to take the fun in good part.

”What is it that amuses you so?” he asked, rather crossly. ”That is the worst of you girls; you are always so ready to make merry at a fellow's expense. You are taking Hamilton's part against me, Nan,--I, who am your oldest friend, who have always been faithful to you ever since you were a child,” continued the young man, with a growing sense of aggravation.

”Oh, d.i.c.k!” and Nan's voice faltered a little; she was rather touched at this.

d.i.c.k took instant note of the change of key, and went on in the same injured voice:

”Why should I look after all the big people and take no notice of you?

Have I not made it my first duty to look after you as long as I can remember? Though the whole world were about us, would you not be the first and the princ.i.p.al to me?”

”Don't, d.i.c.k,” she said, faintly, trying to repress him; ”you must not talk in that way, and I must not listen to you; your father would not like it.” The words were sweet to her,--precious beyond everything,--but she must not have him speak them. But d.i.c.k, in his angry excitement, was not to be repressed.

”What does it matter what he likes? This is between you and me, Nan; no one shall meddle between us two.” But what imprudent speech d.i.c.k was about to add was suddenly quenched in light-pealing laughter. At this critical moment they were met and surrounded; before them was the red glow of Cathcart's cigar, the whiteness of Phillis's gown; behind were two more advancing figures. In another second the young people had joined hands: a dusky ring formed round the startled pair.

”Fairly caught!” cried Dulce's suns.h.i.+ny voice; the mischievous little monkey had no idea of the sport she was spoiling. None of the young people thought of anything but fun; d.i.c.k was just d.i.c.k, and he and Nan were always together.

d.i.c.k muttered something inaudible under his breath; but Nan was quite equal to the occasion; she was still palpitating a little with the pleasure d.i.c.k's words had given her, but she confronted her tormentors boldly.

”You absurd creatures,” she said, ”to steal a march on us like that!

d.i.c.k and I were having a quarrel; we were fighting so hard that we did not hear you.”

”I enjoy a good fight above everything,” exclaimed Cathcart, throwing away his cigar. He was a handsome dark-eyed boy, with no special individuality, except an overweening sense of fun. ”What's the odds, Mayne? and who is likely to be the winner?”

”Oh, Nan, of course,” returned d.i.c.k, trying to recover himself. ”I am the captive of her spear and of her bow: she is in possession of everything, myself included.”

The rest laughed at d.i.c.k's jest, as they thought it; and Mr. Hamilton said, ”Bravo, Miss Challoner! we will help to drag him at your chariot-wheels.” But Nan changed color in the darkness.

They went in after this, and the young men took their leave in the porch. d.i.c.k's strong grip of the hand conveyed his meaning fully to Nan: ”Remember, I meant it all,” it seemed to say to her.

”What did it matter? I am quite sure of him. d.i.c.k is d.i.c.k,” thought Nan, as she laid her head happily on the pillow.