The preparations had been going on for the entire week since the drive.
The great house had been cleaned from top to bottom, the floors waxed,
the state silver brought out and polished. Mrs. Leverich drove out half
a dozen times a day with Dosia, to order or to countermand orders, to
select, compare, discuss. Every arrangement that was made or thought of
required discussionwhat furniture was to be taken up in the attic and
what left where it belonged; where the flowers were to be placed, where
the musicians were to take their stand; how many small tables would be
needed for the serving of the supper that was to come from town.
Leverich himself had said there was to be no expense spared, and he
would see to the wine; all he wanted was the privilege of asking some of
his own friends. The invitations were out late, as there had been a
delay in the engraving; Dosia looked at her own name on them, and tried
to realize that this was indeed what Mr. Leverich called her party. He
had insisted, at his wifes suggestion, in presenting Dosia with her
gown for the occasion, and had been pleased with her pretty thanks for
his kindness. There was something about Mr. Leverich, with all his outer
coarseness, that Dosia liked. When she spoke in a certain way, he never
answered wrong, as his wife sometimes did; he understood.
Not since the night of the barge-ride had Dosia seen her lover. After
her first disquiet and wonder at not seeing him at the breakfast to
which she came down very late the next morning, she was relieved to hear
that he had suddenly been called away earlier. He might not be back for
a day or two. She longed to question more, but could not bring herself
to do it, and his absence seemed to be taken as a matter of course by
everyone else. But there had been a note from him, after the two days
were up, postmarked from the citya mere line that said only, For the
girl I love.
Will your brother be back for the party? she asked Mrs. Leverich,
trying to keep her color steady and ask the question casually.
Oh, yes, indeed, the sister answered readily. He may be back at any
minute now. Hell be here on the day itself, for certain; he knows I
want his help about some things.
Without Lawsons actual presence Dosia could fashion him into the man
she loved, and pitch her own key of living higher. With that higher
thought and her simple earnestness of purpose, she grew sweeter, dearer,
more subtly sympathetic with others; she was no girl any longer, she
said to herself, but a woman, for she was loved. How would his eyes
claim hers when he came? Her cheeks mantled at the thought. There was a
strange tingling emotion in everything connected with him. Ah, he would
be worthyhe must! Suppose he were her hero, after all? Absence
supplied him with the halo.
All the village was astir over the ball, as well as the Leverich house;
it was impossible to overestimate its importance. Every woman was having
a new dress made, or was absorbingly renovating an old one, and every
man was sick and tired of hearing about the festivity. Everybody was
asked; not to have an invitation to the Leverich ball was to be outside
the pale indeed. Mrs. Snow was not going,she had taken cold on the
ride,but it was to be one of Miss Berthas rare appearances in public;
she was to chaperon Ada. Lois and Justin were coming; the former was to
be one of the receiving party.
Dosias week had been one surging thought of Lawson, mixed with wild
anticipations of the ball, yet even at dinner-time on the eventful night
he had not arrived.
Girard is coming, you know, after all, said Leverich, as they
assembled for the hasty meal in a little side-room. I met him in town
to-day, and was lucky enough to get him. Thats the right man for you,
Dosia.
For me! Dosia laughed, with her rising color. Mr. Leverich, you are
always trying to find the right man for me. I dont want him!
You havent met him yet, said Leverich wisely. Hes the only fellow I
know that Id be willing to have you marry. I told him you were waiting
for him.
Oh, oh, oh! cried Dosia, in consternation.
Now, dont get excited, said Leverich, smiling broadly. I said hed
have to work to get youthat you werent the kind of a girl that came
when she was beckoned to. Oh, I put your stock way up.
He laughed at her horrified gaze, and then lapsed indulgently. No, Ill
confess! I didnt say anything of the kind; I was just romancing. I did
tell him hed meet a pretty nice girlyou dont mind that, do you?
You dont deserve to be answered, said Dosia. She went and hung over
his chair caressingly for a moment before escaping from the room.
In spite of his recantation, the effect of having been offered to Mr.
Girard remained the real situationone of sudden and great intimacy.
The thought of his coming to-night added to her happiness; it brought
the deep pleasure inseparable from his nameit was as if something both
calm and protecting had been added, like the comfortable presence of one
who understood. He would sympathize, if he knew, with that high motive
of duty which must uphold her, whether the glamour held or failed. He
would know what it was to feel that you must be true.
As she went through the still unlighted upper hall, she came face to
face with some one in an overcoat, a man who carried a valise.
Lawson! she whispered.
For one dreadful moment she saw him in that way she feared; shallow,
insincere, unstablewas that all? Was there something indefinably odd,
indefinably strange? Then she saw only the gaze that recalled
everythinghe loved her! That thrilling thought carried all before it;
her pulses leaped to own him master, with a sudden lovely, trusting joy.
No, no! she whispered again, with falling eyelids, as he made a
movement toward her. His lips touched her hair. Not here! Some one is
coming.
Later, then! he murmured assentingly, with a gleaming eye, as she
eluded him and ran down the corridor to her own room.
This was to be her ball, her ball! Her lover had come. Her dress lay on
the bed, a white and airy thing; her white pearl-beaded slippers were
below it on the floor. Every chair was piled high with dainty whiteness
of some sort. Her dressing-table, with its candles and flowers, was like
a shrine for her beauty. The mirror reflected her with loosened waves of
hair and bare arms and feet, her bath-robe slipping from her shoulders.
It reflected her again, fresh and gleaming, low-bodiced, short-skirted,
and a-tiptoe in her pearly slippers; and again in filmy, trailing
petticoats, and half-covered neck, sitting like a pictured marchioness
of old in front of the dressing-table, in the shine of the candles,
while Mrs. Leverichs maid piled the fair hair high on her small head.
And every few minutes there was a knock at the door, and a maid brought
in a box of flowers, great, delicious bunches of red and pink and white
roses, and sweet peas and lilies, and violets tied with yards of
lustrous satin ribbon. Dosia held out her arms for them, the dear,
fragrant, heavenly things, and hung over them, and buried her face in
them, and kissed them, before she sent them down-stairs, with loving
protest that she should have to be parted from them until she should
follow. She had not so much as dreamed of this richness of flowers for
her! It was because it was her ball, her ball! And her lover had come.
There was a noise of carriages driving up to the housethe intimate
friends who came first. The musicians below were beginning to tune their
instruments, and the twanging of the strings touched an intenser chord
of exhilaration. The long-ago dance at the bazaarwas Dosia to have
another to-night to which that would be but as a shadow? For this was
her ballher ball, and the dance would be with Lawson as her lover. Her
feet kept time to some fairy measure of her own.
[Illustration: _Like a pictured marchioness of old_]
Now she was robed in the white gown. It was like a white cloud
enveloping her. Mrs. Leverich, rustling richly in pale green satin, came
into the room and clasped a little thread of pearls around the slender
white throat before she went down-stairs.
Lois came also, gowned in trailing blue, beautiful, but pale and cold;
there was a sick look around her mouth. One or two girls ran in for a
peep at the débutante. And was not Dosia coming down? Mrs. Leverich sent
up word that they were all waiting for her. In a momentDosia would
come in a moment. If they would leave her, she would be down in a
moment. The music had struck up now, and swung into the preparatory
strains of Lohengrin. Dosia would come in a moment.
As the bride feels who lingers for that little space alone in her
chamber before facing the new joy, so felt Dosia. Her spirit cried out
that this instant could never come again; she wished to feel it, to know
it, forever. The mirrors reflected her with her hand on the door-knob,
as she leaned half backward, her lashes touching her cheeks.... Then she
opened the door and went down the hall to the stairs.
Dosias beauty was of the kind that distinctly depends on the soul
within, the most touching, yet the most transitory. Never in her life
would she look again as she did to-night, with that lovely, childlike
joy of anticipation; deeper happiness might be hers, but never happiness
of the same kind. The men at the foot of the stairs saw it, and one
shaded his eyes with his hand.
The green-embowered stairway was a broad one which led to a broad
landing; from thence it faced the wide doorway of the brilliantly
lighted drawing-room across the hall. In there were grouped Mrs.
Leverich, Lois, the rest of the receiving party, and the Misses Snow,
standing near a table on which were piled the flowers sent to Dosia,
their long ribbon streamers hanging down to the floor. Mr. Leverich was
at the foot of the stairs, talking to Justin; beside him was George
Sutton; beside him, again, was Billy Snow; at one side in the
half-shadow of some palms was another man. Something in the turn of the
shoulders was oddly familiar to Dosiahe moved suddenly, and for a
second she stood with that figure in a dimly lighted tunnel. This was
Bailey Girard. Hardly had this swift thought come to her than it was
followed by another: Where was Lawson?
Here is our princess descending the stairs, announced Mr. Sutton
gallantly.
At that instant, as Dosia stood on the landing, with one slippered foot
on the lower step, facing her little admiring world, somebody began to
come down the flight at the side with hurrying, stumbling feet. It was
Lawson in evening dress, his olive cheeks flushed, his eyes reckless.
The men who were watching knew at once that, in common parlance, he was
not himself. Dosia, her sweet eyes raised to meet his, only knew, with
a quick, half-frightened thrill, that he looked strangely unnatural. He
seemed to see no one but her, as he caught up to her, saying jovially:
You can give me that other kiss now.
[Illustration: _Somebody began to come down with hurrying, stumbling
feet_]
Did his hand but touch her white shoulder in that suggestion of vulgar
familiarity that branded her as with a hot iron in its scorching,
blinding shame? She could not blush, the blood had all gone to her
stricken heart and left her white as a snow wreath. Then Leverich sprang
up the steps and took Lawson by the arm, dragging him forcibly back into
the upper regions, as some of the guests began to descend. Dosia must go
in, helpless, toward those staring faces. Would no one come to her aid?
Justin? He had turned to speak to Lois. Billy Snow? His face was
averted, his eyes on the ground. Bailey Girard, her helper once, the
hero of her dreams, the man his friend had pledged for succorBailey
Girard stood motionless.
It was George Sutton who came forward and, placing her hand in his arm,
led her with old-fashioned courtesy to her place beside Mrs. Leverich.
The whole incident had taken barely a moment. Dosia stood up, pale and
graceful, artificially self-composed, greeting the many people who began
to pour in, smiling above the enormous bouquet of bride roses that she
held, and chatting in a high, thin voice. Her one immediate thought was
that she must stand up straight, as if nothing had happenedstand up
straight and talk.
Has the girl no feeling? thought Lois contemptuously. Why, she did
not even blush!
Feeling! If Lois had known of that corpse-like feeling of death in the
heart that Dosia strove to cover decently! What did those men think of
her, or those women who saw? What could they think her like, to have
given any man a right to act that way toward her? Yet, what had Lawson
done? Nothing. He had put his hand on her shoulderhe had asked her for
a kiss. That was all. It was nothing and it was everythingsomething
that could never be undone. Through the dancing, through the flirting,
through all the laughing and the talking the words repeated themselves.
What had happened? It was nothingand it was everything. Each effort
for comfort brought with it that horrible, blinding shame to surge over
her more and more, as each time also she recalled the scene, the touch.
How dazzlingly bright the room was, how brilliantly showed the people,
how gay the scene! One partner after another claimed Dosia. She danced
and danced, and did not know she danced. This was her ball! And in all
that throng there was not one person whom she could call her friend. She
fancied that people were whispering as she passed them. She had but one
prayerthat the evening might end. She met Justins eyes from time to
time; they looked stern and disapproving. Even Leverich had an altered
expression. She knew both he and Justin blamed her, and she was right.
Those who are responsible are squeamish as to the appearance of delicacy
in the conduct of a young girl. Lawson was in the greater condemnation,
yet there was more of personal irritation felt with her, in that such a
thing had been possible; it lowered her, and it placed them all in an
awkward position. Justin had said to Leverich briefly, She had better
come back to us at once, and Leverich had answered, Well, perhaps it
would be best.
William Snow stayed outside in the hall, not coming into the ball-room
at all. He stood, instead, leaning against a doorway, and watched
everyone who approached Dosia; his brows were lowering, his attitude
aggressive. He saw that George Sutton hovered around Dosia when she was
not dancing, his round moon-face, suffused with pleasure, bent
solicitously toward her. Once she sent him for a glass of water, and
William saw that she had lapsed momentarily on a corner divan by his
sister Bertha. He noticed the wistful eyes raised to the elder woman,
but he did not hear the younger say with a suddenly tremulous voice:
Oh, Miss Bertha, Im so glad to be here with you!
Thank you, my dear.
Im homesick, said Dosia, with a white smile. Oh, Miss Bertha, Im so
homesick! Her fancy had leaped passionately to the security of the
untidy cottage in the South, with its irresponsive inmates, as if it
were really the loving home she longed for.
Homesick at a ball! said Miss Bertha, with a kind inflection. She
patted the folds of the dress near her comfortingly with her thin
ungloved hand. You oughtnt to be homesick now, you must enjoy
yourself, my dear; youre young.
Something in her tone nearly brought the tears to Dosias burning eyes.
If she could only have stayed with Miss Bertha! But she was claimed for
the dance. Why must you dance when you were dead? Would the ball never
end?
The evening was half over when she found herself in front of Mr. Girard,
with some one hastily introducing them. He had just come from up-stairs
with several men, all laughing and talking together interestedly, but he
hardly had been in the room at all, and she had sensitively fancied that
he had kept out of her way on purpose, though she remembered hearing
Leverich say that he did not know how to dance, and so did not care for
balls. Now, as she had looked at him coming through the crowd, his
personality made itself felt, through her dull misery, as something
unaffectedly charming and magnetic. He was tall, straight, and well
made, with the square shoulders she remembered, and the easy, erect
carriage of a soldier. The thick waves of his light-brown hair, his
long, thin face with its large, well-shaped nose and resolute chin, all
gave an impression of young vitality and power that accorded well with
her thought of him. His eyes were light gray, and not very large; Dosia
had seen them full of laughter a moment before, but they seemed to
acquire a sudden baffling hardness now as they met hers. She had thought
of him so long and intimately that his presence near her brought its
exquisite suggestion of help and comfort. She looked up at him. It might
help even her to be near anyone as strong as that, if he were kindas
kind as she knew he could be. Her heart was in her eyes, as ever,
unconsciously, as she half extended her hand.
Was it by accident that he did not see it? He bowed formally as he said:
Pardon me, but I am just on my way to the train.
He stepped aside, leaving a free passage for the youth who came pushing
by to claim his dance with her, and was gone almost before she knew it.
He _could_ have stayedhe did not want to talk to her! She was lonely
and disgraced, and the thought of Lawson an agony.
She did not see that, as Girard went into the hall, some one gripped him
there and said fiercely, Come with me! Billy Snow, his eyes blazing,
had pulled him out on the piazza beyond.
Youve got to answer to me for that, he stuttered. Youve got to
answer to me for that, Mr. Girard. Why did you turn away from Dofrom
Miss Linden like that?
What right have you to ask? questioned the other man coolly, but with
a sudden frown.
None, except that Ilove her, said Billy, with a queer, boyish catch
in his voice. Yes, I love her, and she doesnt care a snap of her
finger for me. But I dont care; I love her anyway, and I always shall.
Im proud to! The catch came again. She may step on me, if she wants
to. You saw what happened here to-night when that damned brute He
made a gesture toward the hallway.
Girard made no answer, but looked into vacancy for a moment. Before the
sight of both of them came a vision of Dosia in all the radiance of her
beautiful innocence, the flush on her cheek, and the divine, shy look in
her eyes when she first raised them to Lawson, before it changed to
You saw what happened here to-night, said Billy, with renewed heat at
the others silence. I dont care what _he_ said, or what you think;
shes no more to blame than
The other stopped him with a quick, peremptory gesture.
You mistake, he said shortly. Youre speaking to the wrong person. I
saw nothing. I dont know what you mean, and I dont want to.
What! cried William, staring.
Let me give you a piece of advice, said Girard incisively, with an odd
whiteness in his face. Dont you know better than to bring the name of
a woman into a discussion like this? If a girl needs no defenseby
Heaven, she needs none! And thats the end of it. Only a fool talks.
Yes, said William, with a sharp breath, after a pause,yes; thank
youIll remember. But when I meet _him_ He stopped significantly.
Oh, whatever you please! said Girard, spreading out his hands lightly,
with a smile and a quick, steely gleam in his eyes that cut like a
scimitar.
Sorry Ive got to gomy overcoat is just inside. No, I dont want to
drive, Id rather walk. Good-by!
He went off in a moment, with long strides, down the carriage-drive to
the station, the dance-music growing fainter in the distance. She was
dancing still. Her faceher pure, sweet, pleading childs facewent
with him through the moonlight. He knew that look! When helpless things
were hurt like thatHe couldnt talk to her that night, nor touch her
hand, because of that burning desire to leap on Lawson Barr and choke
the life out of him first.