Molly McDonald: A Tale of the Old FrontierParrish, Randall
General
Molly McDonald: A Tale of the Old Frontier
Parrish, Randall
Women pioneers -- Fiction
resent his meddling in the affair. Besides he was not altogether
convinced that the girl had not been actually present at, and in some
manner connected with, the attack on Gaskins. The memory of that face,
shrinking behind the corner of the barrack wall, remained clear in his
mind. He might be mistaken, but perhaps it would be best to go slow.
It was a huge, bare hall, although the walls were concealed by flags,
while other draperies were festooned along the rafters. The band was
stationed upon a raised platform at the rear, and a hundred couples
occupied the floor. The men present were largely officers attired in
dress-uniforms, although there was a considerable sprinkling of
civilians, a few conspicuous in garments of the latest cut and style.
Evidently invitations had been widely spread, and, considering time and
place, liberally responded to. Among the women present the Sergeant
saw very few he recognized, yet it was comparatively easy to classify
the majority--officers' wives; the frontier helpmates of the more
prominent merchants of the town; women from the surrounding ranches,
who had deserted their homes until the Indian scare ceased; a scattered
few from pretentious small cities to the eastward, and, here and there,
younger faces, representing ranchmen's daughters, with a school-teacher
or two. Altogether they made rather a brave show, occasionally
exhibiting toilets worthy of admiring glances, never lacking ardent
partners, and entering with unalloyed enthusiasm into the evening's
pleasure. The big room presented a scene of brilliant color, of
ceaselessly moving figures; the air was resonant with laughter and
trembling to the dashing strains of the band. Primitive as it was in
many respects, to Hamlin, long isolated in small frontier posts, the
scene was strangely attractive, his imagination responding to the glow
of color, the merry chime of voices, the tripping of feet. The smiling
faces flashed past, his ears caught whispered words, his eyes followed
the flying figures. For the moment the man forgot himself in this new
environment of thoughtless pleasure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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