Orson wondered what terrible thing the girl could have spoken. There was nothing coarse in her manner. Delicacy and grace seemed to mark her. And whatever it was she said she smiled luminously when she said it. The look in her eyes was incompatible with profanity, mild soever. Yet her language must have been appalling, for her father and mother blushed and seemed to be ashamed of bringing her into the world, sorry that she had come home. The ovation froze away into a confused babble. What could the girl have said? II Orson was called in by the station agent before he could question any of the greeters. When he was released the throng had dispersed. The Terriberrys had clambered into the family surrey and driven home with their disgrace. But that night there was a party at the Littons', planned in Emma's honor. Tudie had invited Orson to be present. He found that the one theme of conversation was Emma. Everybody said to him, "Have you seen Emma?" and when he said "Yes," everybody demanded, "Have you heard her?" and when he said "No" everybody said, "Just you wait!" Orson was growing desperate over the mystery. He seized Newt Elkey by the arm and said, "What does she do?" "What does who do?" "This Miss Em Terriberry. Everybody says, 'Have you heard her?'" "Well, haven't you?" "No! What under the sun does she say?" "Just you wait. 'Shh!" Then Emma came down the stairs like a slowly swooping angel. She had seemed a princess in her traveling-togs; in her evening gown--! Orson had not seen such a gown since he had been in Paris. He imagined this girl poised on the noble stairway of the Opera there. Em came floating down upon these small-town girls with this fabric from heavenly looms, and reduced them once for all to a chorus. But there was no scorn in her manner and no humility in her welcome. The Carthage girls frankly gave her her triumph, yet when she reached the foot of the stairs and the waiting Arthur she murmured something that broke the spell. The crowd rippled with suppressed amusement. Arthur flushed. Orson was again too remote to hear. But he could feel the wave of derision, and he could see the hot shame on Arthur's cheeks. Emma bent low for her train, took Arthur's arm, and disappeared into the parlor where the dancing had begun. Orson felt his arm pinched, and turned to find Tudie looking at him. "This is our dance," she said, "unless you'd rather dance with her." "With her? With Miss Terriberry, you mean?" "Naturally. You were staring at her so hard I thought your eyes would roll out on the floor." There was only one way to quell this mutiny, and that was to soothe it away. He caught Tudie in his arms. It was strenuous work bumping about in that little parlor, and collisions were incessant, but he wooed Tudie as if they were afloat in interstellar spaces.