The Last Assembly Ball

Southland Times, Issue 11462, 22 May 1890, Page 4

The Last Assembly Ball

A Pseudo Romance of the Far West. By Mary Hallock Foote, . Author of "The Lcd- Horse Claim," "John Bodewin's Testimony," etc. Part 111. Chapter IV. (Continued) Frank and Milly took their places as third couple in the lancers. He had not dared to ask her if she could dance, but she showed.no hesitation and bore her- - self to his entire admiration. The manner of the perfect servant, which Mrs *'"' Dansken had approved, did not forsake her now; she stood up as calmly as if she ■had been behind her mistress's chair, with the double file of laughing young men's faces in front -of her, ' My brave girl — my beauty,' Frank whispered, and the next moment he saw that they were deserted. The set had ~ -melted away and they stood in their places alone. He whirled Milly off into 1 another set that was forming ; that too dissolved, and left them objects of com miseration or of derision to the room. Then they took their seats. • I wish we could go away,' Milly said. 'We will go, after a while. I will not * ■ skulk out of the room with you and leave a trail of sneers behind us. Who are they ? — a lot of washed-out old women; and where did they come from, I should like to know? Ladies don't assemble in mining camps, as a rule.' Frank stopped, arid Milly said : 'I'm not a lady. I never pretended to be one.' 'And they do pretend, that is just the difference.' He was more sure of himself now that the case was Bimple — his bride to buckler against the world. 'We j will hive one waltz together. Can you waltz, Milly ?' Milly smiled faintly in reminiscence, 'What should I care about the music if I'd sever danced to it ?' ehe asked. • Ah, that night ! Poor Milly !— Heavens, how beautiful you look ! You are my Cinderella after all. We'll make those proud sisters own up who is the belle of the ball. Wait till the men have their turn.' Frank was not himself to-night. He was not in the habit of making such speeches as these,but the form of attack be was meeting called up all that was crudest and coarsest in his nature. The company had now got down tothe level of primitive instincts. It was simply a tussle for supremacy. When the waltz began Frank rose and took Milly by the hand. Her hand was cold. He looked at her beautiful face and saw; that she was colorless, es:^c*ptHforner bright hair and her oppque, ~ r g€in-l)ke eyes,on which the light floated as on dark green water. ' Can you go through with it ?' he . whispered. ' Can I waltz V asked Milly. ' You will see.' * What are those poor things going to do now V Mrs Paul exclaimed as they 1 took their places. ' Dees he imagine that she can dance ? I propose we give them the floor,' It was yielded them' by tacit consent, and they floated over it,a pair of dancers who might have been chosen to incarnate the spiWt of the waltz. ' That's business,' Strode murmured, and then not another word was spoken. ■ The company were reduced to the attitude of mere spectators ; every eye iollowed the exalted, dreamlike motions f the beautiful young pair. This was Milly's triumph. Whether it was worth the cost Frank did not ask himself. He flung himself into it with an aching forecast that such henceforth would be the nature of his wife's triumphs — conquered by strife, and in a 'field open to all competitors without subtle distinctions. A perfect physical endowment; a sense of rhythm; muscles true to the quiver of a nerve ; a calm, unfaser face. The soul of the waltz passed, in anguished ecstasy, before the silent company, and the hearts of the women wee pained and the men were at Mi ly s feet. But none the less was she doomed. 'Really, one 1 would think it was professional,' said Mrs Paul. • How doe* she keep herself in practice V 'By Jove, she's stunning ! It doesn't look as if she needed much practice, said Strode. Such, remarks did not help Milly's case as a majority of the young 'men carried their defection to the point of going over to her in a body askiDg to be introduced, and crowding her card with tbti'r names. The ladies were beaten from the field. Those who had escorts summoned them. and at 1 o'clock Milly was the only woman in the room. The best of the men had gone with the ladies. It needed but a glance to show Frank that the tables were turned, and that the retreat of the women bad been a stroke of vengeance. The men whose names were on Milly's list were not such as he intended his wife should dance with When it was seen that he was taking his beautiful waltzer away, a crowd of protestants gathered about them, reproaching her familiarly and joking with Frank in a way that drove him wild. Some of them had been drinking; decidedly Strode was not himself, He had deposited Mrs Paul at her door and had hastened back, pausing for a parenthetical glass at the bar, to confirm his endorsement of Milly, It was he who followed up the retreat, who intercepted ♦he pair at the foot of the staircase, and tipsily demanded his dance with the bride. The stairs went up from the office of the hotel, where a crowd of men were laughing witnesses of the scene 'Some other time, Strode,' said Frank, controlling himself 'Wha's your hurry 1 Haven't" you cut . her oat and got you' brand on her V Strode muttered, lapsing into cowboy Blang They had reached the first landing. Strode pursuing, Frank turned upon him, 'Clear out, before I kick you down stairs' Strode braced himself,and Frank took him by the cullar and flung 1 him backwards off the lanciing. It was not far to fall. Strode was up and at the bedroom door, sobered and white with rage, as Frank shut the door upon his wife and faced about to meet him. Strode looked into his eyes. 'You've got to apologise,' he mattered.

Frank Wnghed at this proposition, following this scene on tbe btairs. He was perfectly cool- 'Do you want any more of tbe same sort ?' he asked. 'When will you meet me like a gentleman V ' Like an idiot, you mean ! Gentlemen don't fight duels off tbe stage.' ' Gentlemen, with us, don't use their fists,' said the Arkansas boy: ' You are a coward 1' ' A.DO. I? You shall prove it — any ridiculous way you like, and as soon as you like.' ' Twelve o'clock then, out here in the lot back of the hotel. Who s your friend ?' Frank thought a moment. ' Blashfield,' he said, ♦ V"ou needn't make a noise about it.' ' I think you will equeal first/ said Strode. ' Hound !' said Frank, looknig after him. He went into his room and took Milly in his lap, putting his head down upon her shoulder. She laid her hands timidly one on each side of his temples, and felt the hob veins throbbing. Her heart was very soft towards him, her wonderful young lover, her protector, whom she found more formidable than all the dangers he had tried to save her from: ' He'd taken too much, hadn't he ?' she whispered. Frank shuddered. ' You ain't afraid he'll make you trouble V He shook his head. He gripped her to him, gave her a little shake, and put her down from his knees, ' Why wouldn't you let me dance? she asked presently, following him with ber eyes as he strode about the room. 'You wasn't jealous, was you?' He threw up his head like creature that feels itself stifling. Ie was clear that Milly had not perceived the nature of her success, and was immensely svp ported hy it. Her exhilaration was even more dreadful to him than the incomprehension he had been beating himself against all day. 'Milly,' he said, ' did I ever show you my mother's picture V lls it that one in a leather frame on your bureau V 'Again, was it possible he could be sensitive on so slight a point aa that Miily should be already intimate with his personal bflonpings in her domestic capacity ? ' Yes/ he said with a sigh. Once he had compared this beautiful girl to Enid, who was so sweet and serviceable, and had sympathised with Geraint in his desire to ' kiss the tender little thumb that crossed tbe trencher as she laid it down ;' though as a matter of fact Milly's thumb was neither little nor tender, and she had been instructed by Mrs Dansken never to let it cross the trencher. ' My mother was never anything but kind to any living soul, I believe. Do you think you could be fond of her, Milly ? Have you looked at her face V ' Yes,' said Milly, listlessly, ' She looks older' — she hesitated — ' but that, maybe, is the way she's dressed.' ' The way she's dreesed ? Why, how should she be dressed ?' Did Milly suppose his mother wore ber hair in a fuzz on her forehead, like Mrs Dansken, and dressed in nile-green silk 1 Then he remembered that the picture had been taken when she was in mourning. But it did not matter. He felt as if he should never speak of his mother again. Milly was silent, feeling that she had missed the right words, as usual, She had not been thinking much of what she was saying, fche had not got as far as Frank's mother yet. Frank saw she had sunk into that attitude of stolid watchfulness, with sorrfething reproach ful in it, that all day had been his despair. Her triumph was sold. He looked at her,fairas she was, with a face of that simple but elusive type the masters felt for, with broad, soft touches, in palest chalks, on the margins of bolder conceptions ; he thought ofc Andrea del Sarto, of Lydgate, of all the men who had wrecked their lives in such frail craft as this. He thought of that nameless youth who was surpiised and btal bed as he stepped from a gondola after a night's delirious drifting — the youth who boasted that he had ' lived.' Bat be could not find tbe comfort of a prototype, either in romantic reality or in realistic romance. He was no Andrea no Lydgate : he was not even a youth who had 'lived;' he was merely the busband of Milly. As for the duel, it was the crowning act of this dreary little farcical romance. He most certainly did not intend to hit Strode,and he doubted, on general principles, that Strode would be able to hit him, should the affair culminate in their pointing pistols ai each other. At a quarter to twelve Blashfield came to the door, ' Strode will apologise,' he said, ' if you will give him a chance ' ' I'll give him every chance when we get on the ground.' 'He is downstairs now. He has come to himself. There's no sense in this meeting, you know,' ' What do you want of me ? It's a quarter to twelve now. Let him meet me where he said he would, and we will shake hands. No, I won't go downstairs, Blashfield. I shall punch his head if I do,' 'Are you going to be reasonable 1 • I have been reasonable. Strode was tipsy. Let him say so when tbe time comes, and ask my pardon. I'm not going to bunt him up,' 'I'll bring him up here.' ' Thank you, I've no use for him up here. Keep an eye on him, Blasshy, if you're afraid be won't stay with it,' 'He isn't my man !' ' Keep with him all the same. I'll meet you at the barber's,' I Tbe quarter hour was passed, Frank had said to Miliy that he would have to go out for a few moments ; it was the ' little engagement he had told her he would have to sit up for. He would tell her about it, and make her laugh, when he returned, He himself laughed as he kissed ber, H was leaving the hotel when he met Hugh Williams, beaming with outstretched hand 'The dance lets out early to-night,' he remarked pleasantly- ' I didn't know Mrs Dansken was at home till I stumbled over Blashfield.' Frank decided, after a look at Williams, that Blashfield had kept the meeting quiet. ((To bh Continue)