Mliss :: :: University of Virginia Library

When Mr. Gray arrived a little later the girls
were expecting him. A pair of warm brown
arms stole round his neck, and soft warm lips
pressed a kiss upon his bearded cheek. When
the brown arms were withdrawn they were succeeded
by a whiter pair, but the kiss was blushingly
denied. Bob quietly announced his determination
to enter at once the study of law.

Mr. Gray withheld from Mliss the fact of the
discovery of her mother. No good could, at this
time, result from a meeting between mother
and daughter. If the instincts of motherly love
had survived in this woman, he would have
deemed it his duty to bring mother and
daughter together. But Mother Nell, apart from
her relationship, was not a desirable acquaintance
for a young girl. Coarse and sensual by
nature, a dissolute life had extinguished the
finer sentiments she might at one time have possessed.
It was beter, for a time at least that
Mliss should remain in ignorance of the character
of the woman to whom she was indebted for life.

Bob was to take his departure for Red Mountain the
following day, and Reginia had reluctantly consented
to permit him to receive some of his friends at the
house on that evening. Her object was two-fold:
First, to leave upon his mind an impression that he
was loved at home, and, second, to prevent a more riotous
celebration of his departure elsewhere.

Reginia dreaded the ordeal of meeting a crowd for
whom she experienced a profound dislike. But her
absence would be too marked a slight to be tolerated,
and she nerved herself to perform the duties of hostess
with seeming courtesy. With this explanation she
asked Mr. Gray to be present.

Mr. Gray, of course, consented. He had a little curiosity
to see assembled representatives of circles
everywhere spoken of as forming a distinct class in the
community.

With some consideration for his sister's projudices,
Bob had invited the least objectionable of his lady
friends. Their status in society could not be easily
defined. The girls were regarded as respectable in
the sense in which the word is applied to their sex.
At least they were not known to be otherwise. They
were somewhat wild and lawless, defying the conventional
restraints that hold their more prudent sisters
in check. Their manners were free, their talk slangy,
and no considerations of propriety restrained them
when there was a chance to have what they called “a
good time.” They were regular habitnes of respectable
dancing halls, and when the finances of their escorts
were flourishing they would adjourn to private
supper rooms in parties, and remain until long after
the hour when well behaved, decorous girls ought to
be m. In any American city but San Francisco
they would have been condemned for acts of impropriety.
Here judgment was held in abeyance.

Among the belles of this anomalous circle, Miss Hattie
Brooks was prominent. She was pretty, graceful,
and vivacious. Her parents were not only respectable,
but in well-to-do circumstances. Plain, honest people,
with just enough education to do business, they cared
nothing for society and knew little of their daughter's
associates. They believed her quite capable of taking
care of herself, and gave themselves little concern as
to her goings and comings. If she was out late a
night she was always ready to give an account of herself.
The names of her associates were recognized as
those of the sons and daughters of respectable people.
Whether or not the young lady was strictly truthful in
her representations to her parents, this history does
not take upon itself to say.

Another more bold, brilliant, and questionable
figure in this assemblage was Miss Ray Edmonds.
Ray, as she was called by those who knew her and
those who knew of her, was an heiress in her own
right. Her father was rich, and a sister of her mother
moved in the same circles of which Miss Shaw was an
honored member. The young girl herself might have
been a belle in the best circles if her tastes had inclined
that way. But after two or three experiences in
telegant parties. Miss Ray declared nothing should
empt her to endure such martyrdom again. They
were dull, stupid, “pokey.” Destitute of native refinement,
her high animal spirits carried her into all
kinds of excesses. Of course she was talked about, but
this notortety seemed to please her. If reports affecting
her character reached her ears she would laugh
them off without a blush or apparent sense of shame.
On one occasion when told that her name was associated
in a scandalous manner with that of a gentleman
distinguished alike for the reserve of his deportment
and great personal beauty, she replied naively,
“I wish it was true.”

Miss Ray was a striking figure in whatever ballroom
she entered. Long, fine, lustrous red hair swept in a
luminous cloud behind her nearly to her knees. Her
face was pretty, but piquant rather than beautiful.
Her eyes were the shade of black which is not unusual
in Spanish blondes, not jetty nor brilliant, but touched
with brown or red. Her complexion was fair, nose
retrouesse, teeth perfect, and expression animated.
Her manner was free and brusque. The only delicacy
she seemed to understand was that of doube entendre,
which enabled her to say the most wicked things with
the most innocent air imaginable. She had remarkably
plump, handsome shoulders, and when arrayed
for the ball-room, strangers unacquainted with her
eccentric character were inclined to question if her
dressmaker had not made an error in her measurement
which the young lady had not time to correct.

Miss Ray had had scores of lovers, but none had
long retained a place in her affections. The one who
was in high favor to-day would be dismissed to-morrow
with as little consideration as if he had been a
servant. From the moment of dismissal they relapsed
into the condition of friends or ordinary acquaintances.
She had violent fancies, but could not be supposed
capable of love. She would have been a dangerous
coquette but for the utter absence of tenderness
in her love-making. Such men as she could not
take by storm, she could not touch.

As master of ceremonies, Bob introduced Mr. Gray
to the most attractive young ladies. The young
lawyer could make himself agreeable in any company,
and this, from its freshness, rather amused him.
He had fallen into a very lively flirtation with Miss
Hattie Brooks, to the generous Bob's extreme gratification,
and was promenading with her on his arm
when Miss Ray happened to observe him. Her first
glance showed her that he was not “one of them.”
Her second that he was a rather fine-looking young
man. She inferred from Miss Hattie's animated
manner that he was not “pokey.” Meeting Bob she
asked:

“Who is that gentleman talking with Hattie?”

Bob gave the required information.

“Bring him here,” she said, “I want to know
him.”

Bob informed Mr. Gray of the honor awaiting
him. Miss Hattie uttered a warning and took the
arm of a young hoodlum who came to claim her for a
promised dance.

Mr. Gray suffered himself to be marched across the
room and be presented to the belle of the evening.
She received him with great cordiality.

“Let's get out of this,” she said, taking his arm.
“Isn't there some fresh air somewhere?”

Mr. Gray thought they might find some, and they
proceeded in search of it.

Passing out of the ball-room into the hall, Mr. Gray
conducted his companion towards the conservatory.

“It's awful hot in there,” said Miss Ray, fanning
herself vigorously. “Those hoodlum boys hug so
when they waltz.”

“Shall I accept this as an intimation not to offend in
a like manner?” asked Mr. Gray.

“Do you waltz? I have not seen you.”

“No, I do not waltz.”

“Then how are you going to offend in a like manner?”
she asked, with a mischievous glance.

“Waltzing is a pretext. By mutual agreement the
pretext might be dispensed with.”

“Wouldn't it be better if I should teach you to
waltz?”

“When shall I take the first lesson?”

“Now,” she replied, withdrawing her hand from his
arm, placing herself before hum, and laying her hand
on his shoulder half way round his neck. The young
man, of course, could not refuse a waist so freely offered.

“But there is no music,” he said.

“Wait, then; there will be soon enough.”

They waited. The conviction grew firm in Mr.
Gray's mind that the characteristic of hoodlum dancing
of which the young lady had complained was not
entirely the fault of the male of that variety of the
species.

“Do you think you shall like waltzing?” she asked

“I can't think; but the first position is not unpleasant.”

There was another pause. As there was no music
they could not do otherwise than wait.

“Mr. Gray,” she said after a while, “you are a huge
fraud.”

“What reasons have you for that opinion?”

“I never give reasons. I feel it.”

“Nothing can be more conclusive,” he said.

“Nothing,” she sighed.

Mr. Gray was devising ways and means of escape
with some shreds of reputation when feminine voices
were heard in the hall, calling:

“Ray, Ray, where are you?”

“The deuce take those girls,” exclaimed Ray,
“they ought to know better than to follow us in
here.”

“But they don't,” replied Mr. Gray, greatly relieved,
`for` here they come.”

Miss Ray made a concession to propriety, rather because
she found her waist released than from considerations
of self. When the girls bounced into the
conservatory the occupants were very decorously engaged
in a critical discussion on plants.

“Come, Ray, said one of the girls, “you mustn't
hrow off on Tommie. He's loking everywhere for
you.”

“If he'd looked in here,” replied Ray, coolly, “he'd
found me.”

“Well, I'll tell him you are here.”

“Tell him, also, that I shan't dance with him.”

“O, Ray, that's mean.”

“When I leave a ball-room,” responded Ray, “I
leave it because I choose to be somewhere else.”

“O,” said the girl, saucily, looking up to Mr. Gray,
“if that's the way the cat jumps, I've nothing more
to say. Please excuse me,” and she curtsied extravagantly
and disappeared.

Miss Ray turned, doubtless intending to continue
the lesson the preliminaries of which had been reheared
so successfully, but Mr. Gray took her hand,
and drew it through his arm.

“If I am a huge fraud,” he said, “I would rather
no one but you should know it. Now you are discovered,
we shall have no peace.”

“But you must pay for this lesson, Mr. Gray, I am
ready to give it.”

“What is the forfeit?”

“Supper at Marchand's.”

“Supper for two?”

“Have you any friends you want to invite?”

“No.”

“Neither have I.”

My. Gray was reckless of engagements so that he
got off without seeming to fly. Arrangements were
made for “supper for two.”

The elan of this assault rather intimidated the young
lawyer. The gait of the fair Ray was a shade too fast
to suit the pace he had determined to go. He was in
fact so completely demoralized that for the remainder
of the evening he sought the protection of Miss
Shaw.

The party was regarded by the guests as a great social
success. The girls declared that they had a splendid
time. At parting all kissed Bob good-by, all but
Miss Hattie, who reserved that ceremony for a later
hour.

Reginia and Mr. Gray stood on the doorstep and
saw the last of their guests depart. Mliss had retired
and they were alone.”

“Bob must never ask this of me again,” said Reginia.
“It is too much!”

“You are right,” replied Mr. Gray, “it is too
much.”

“I thought you seemed amused.”

“Amused, yes. But if I had a sister, I should
rather she would not be amused in the same way.”

“And yet I am Bob's sister and he loves me in his
rough way.”

“Bob loves you without doubt. He would shed his
last drop of blood in your defense or lay down his
life to serve you. His heart is not bad, but he is too
heedless and inconsiderate to be a guide for you.”

“Yet he is all I have.”

“Not quite all, Miss Shaw.”

“I mean—at least I didn't mean—to undervalue
your friendship. But friends, you know, are not relatives.
We are together to-day; to-morrow we may be
apart.”

“I hope not, Reginia.”

“I hope not. I don't know what we should do
without you. You've been the best friend to me a
lone girl ever had.”

She spoke with feeling and her beautiful eyes
raised to his face were eloquent with affection. He
murmured some re-assuring words in reply, raised
her hand to his lips and bade her good night.