Mrs. Pantin's eyes had all the warm friendliness of two blue china knobs
and her thin lips were closed until her mouth looked merely a vivid
scratch. Yet, somehow, the boy managed to say with his manner of
deferential courtesy:
"Mrs. Pantin, do you know Miss Prentice?"
Ordinarily, a part of Mrs. Pantin's society manner was a vivacious
chirp, but now she said coldly between her teeth:
"I haven't that pleasure." She gave Kate her extreme finger tips with
such obvious reluctance that the action was an affront.
Disston glanced at Mrs. Sudds in the hope of finding friendliness. That
lady had drawn herself up like an outraged tragedy queen. No one would
have dreamed, seeing Mrs. Sudds at the moment with her air of royal
hauteur, that in bygone days she had had her own troubles making twelve
dollars a week as a stenographer.
His glance passed on to Mrs. Neifkins, who was picking at a French knot
in a spasm of nervousness lest Kate betray the fact that they had met.
Disston was aware that Mrs. Neifkins knew Kate and his lip curled at her
cowardice. He raised his head haughtily; he would not subject his
partner to further rebuffs.
"Come on, Katie," he said, curtly, and they passed into the dining room.
The girl's cheeks were flaming as they sat down on the chairs ranged
against the wall.
"Hughie," her fingers were like ice as she clasped them together in her
lap. "What's the matter? Do I look--queer?"
He answered shortly:
"You're all right."
They sat watching the crowd file in. Suddenly Hughie exclaimed in
obvious relief:
"There's Teeters, and Maggie Taylor and her mother! Wait here--I'll
bring them over."
He went up to them with assurance, for their friendliness and
hospitality had been marked upon the several occasions that he had
accompanied Teeters, who always had some transparent excuse for stopping
at their ranch.
Mrs. Taylor, with her backwoods' conceit and large patronizing manner,
had been especially amusing to Hughie, but now in this uncomfortable
situation she looked like a haven in a storm as he saw her towering by
nearly half a head above the tallest in the crowd.
It was Mrs. Taylor's proud boast that she came of a race of giants. Even
upon ordinary occasions she bore a rather remarkable resemblance to a
mountain sheep, but to-night the likeness was further increased by a
grizzled bunch of frizzled hair that stood out on either temple like
embryo horns. Mrs. Taylor looked, as it were, "in the velvet." She wore
a brown sateen basque secured at the throat by a brooch consisting of a
lock of hair under glass. It was observed, also, that for the evening
she had removed the string which she commonly wore around her two large
and widely separated front teeth, and which were being drawn together by
this means at about the rate the earth is cooling off.
Mrs. Taylor dated events from the time "Mr. Taylor was taken," though
there was always room for doubt as to whether Mr. Taylor was "taken" or
quite deliberately went.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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