THE LIEUTENANT MEETS MISS SPENCER
Lieutenant Brant was somewhat delayed in reaching the scene of Miss
Spencer's social triumph. Certain military requirements were largely
responsible for this delay, and he had patiently wrestled with an
unsatisfactory toilet, mentally excoriating a service which would not
permit the transportation of dress uniforms while on scouting detail.
Nevertheless, when he finally stepped forth into the brilliant
moonlight, he presented an interesting, soldierly figure, his face
still retaining a bit of the boy about it, his blue eyes bright with
expectancy. That afternoon he had half decided not to go at all, the
glamour of such events having long before grown dim, but the peculiar
attraction of this night proved too strong; not thus easily could he
erase from memory the haunting witchery of a face. Beyond doubt, when
again viewed amid the conventionalities, much of its imagined charm
would vanish; yet he would see her once more, although no longer
looking forward to drawing a prize.
The dance was already in full swing, the exciting preliminaries having
been largely forgotten in the exuberance of motion, when he finally
pushed his way through the idle loungers gathered about the door, and
gained entrance to the hall. Many glanced curiously at him, attracted
by the glitter of his uniform, but he recognized none among them, and
therefore passed steadily toward the musicians' stand, where there
appeared to be a few unoccupied chairs.
The scene was one of color and action. The rapid, pulsating music, the
swiftly whirling figures, the quivering drapery overhead, the bright
youthful faces, the glow of numerous lamps, together with the ceaseless
voices and merry shuffling of feet, all combined to create a scene
sufficiently picturesque. It was altogether different from what he had
anticipated. He watched the speeding figures, striving in vain to
distinguish the particular one whose charms had lured him thither. He
looked upon fair faces in plenty, flushed cheeks and glowing eyes
skurried past him, with swirling skirts and flashes of neatly turned
ankles, as these enthusiastic maids and matrons from hill and prairie
strove to make amends for long abstinence. But among them all he was
unable to distinguish the wood-nymph whose girlish frankness and grace
had left so deep an impression on his memory. Yet surely she must be
present, for, to his understanding, this whole gay festival was in her
honor. Directly across the room he caught sight of the Reverend Mr.
Wynkoop conversing with a lady of somewhat rounded charms, and picked
his way in their direction.
The missionary, who had yet scarcely recovered from the shock of
Moffat's impulsive speech, and who, in truth, had been hiding an
agonized heart behind a smiling face, was only too delighted at any
excuse which would enable him to approach Miss Spencer, and press aside
those cavaliers who were monopolizing her attention. The handicap of
not being able to dance he felt to be heavy, and he greeted the
lieutenant with unusual heartiness of manner.
"Why, most assuredly, my dear sir, most assuredly," he said. "Mrs.
Herndon, permit me to make you acquainted with Lieutenant Brant, of the
Seventh Cavalry."
The two, thus introduced, bowed, and exchanged a few words, while Mr.
Wynkoop busied himself in peering about the room, making a great
pretence at searching out the lady guest, who, in very truth, had
scarcely been absent from his sight during the entire evening.
"Ah!" he ejaculated, "at last I locate her, and, fortunately, at this
moment she is not upon the floor, although positively hidden by the men
clustering about her chair. You will excuse us, Mrs. Herndon, but I
have promised Lieutenant Brant a presentation to your niece."
They slipped past the musicians' stand, and the missionary pressed in
through the ring of admirers.
"Why, Mr. Wynkoop!" and she extended both hands impulsively. "And only
to think, you have never once been near me all this evening; you have
not congratulated me on my good fortune, nor exhibited the slightest
interest! You don't know how much I have missed you. I was just
saying to Mr. Moffat--or it might have been Mr. McNeil--that I was
completely tired out and wished you were here to sit out this dance
with me."
Wynkoop blushed and forgot the errand which had brought him there, but
she remained sufficiently cool and observant. She touched him gently
with her hand.
"Who is that fine-looking young officer?" she questioned softly, yet
without venturing to remove her glance from his face.
Mr. Wynkoop started. "Oh, exactly; I had forgotten my mission. He has
requested an introduction." He drew the lieutenant forward.
"Lieutenant Brant, Miss Spencer."
The officer bowed, a slight shadow of disappointment in his eyes. The
lady was unquestionably attractive, her face animated, her reception
most cordial, yet she was not the maiden of the dark, fathomless eyes
and the wealth of auburn hair.
"Such a pleasure to meet you," exclaimed Miss Spencer, her eyes
uplifted shyly, only to become at once modestly shaded behind their
long lashes. "Do you know, Lieutenant, that actually I have never
before had the privilege of meeting an officer of the army. Why, we in
the East scarcely realize that we possess such a body of brave men.
But I have read much regarding the border, and all the dreams of my
girlhood seem on the point of realization since I came here and began
mingling in its free, wild life. Your appearance supplies the one
touch of color that was lacking to make the picture complete. Mr.
Moffat has done so much to make me realize the breadth of Western
experience, and now, I do so hope, you will some time find opportunity
to recount to me some of your army exploits."
The lieutenant smiled. "Most gladly; yet just now, I confess, the
music invites me, and I am sufficiently bold to request your company
upon the floor."
Miss Spencer sighed regretfully, her eyes sweeping across those
numerous manly faces surrounding them. "Why, really, Lieutenant Brant,
I scarcely see how I possibly can. I have already refused so many this
evening, and even now I almost believe I must be under direct
obligation to some one of those gentlemen. Still," hesitatingly, "your
being a total stranger here must be taken into consideration. Mr.
Moffat, Mr. McNeil, Mr. Mason, surely you will grant me release this
once?"
There was no verbal response to the appeal, only an uneasy movement;
but her period of waiting was extremely brief.
"Oh, I knew you would; you have all been so kind and considerate." She
arose, resting her daintily gloved hand upon Brant's blue sleeve, her
pleased eyes smiling up confidingly into his. Then with a charming
smile, "Oh, Mr. Wynkoop, I have decided to claim your escort to supper.
You do not care?"
Wynkoop bowed, his face like a poppy.
"I thought you would not mind obliging me in this. Come, Lieutenant."
Miss Spencer, when she desired to be, was a most vivacious companion,
and always an excellent dancer. Brant easily succumbed to her sway,
and became, for the time being, a victim to her charms. They circled
the long room twice, weaving their way skilfully among the numerous
couples, forgetful of everything but the subtile intoxication of that
swinging cadence to which their feet kept such perfect time,
occasionally exchanging brief sentences in which compliment played no
insignificant part. To Brant, as he marked the heightened color
flushing her fair cheeks, the experience brought back fond memories of
his last cadet ball at the Point, and he hesitated to break the mystic
spell with abrupt questioning. Curiosity, however, finally mastered
his reticence.
"Miss Spencer," he asked, "may I inquire if you possess such a
phenomenon as a 'star' pupil?"
The lady laughed merrily, but her expression became somewhat puzzled.
"Really, what a very strange question! Why, not unless it might be
little Sammy Worrell; he can certainly use the longest words I ever
heard of outside a dictionary. Why, may I ask? Are you especially
interested in prodigies?"
"Oh, not in the least; certainly not in little Sammy Worrell. The
person I had reference to chances to be a young woman, having dark
eyes, and a wealth of auburn hair. We met quite by accident, and the
sole clew I now possess to her identity is a claim she advanced to
being your 'star' pupil."
Miss Spencer sighed somewhat regretfully, and her eyes fell. "I fear
it must have been Naida, from your description. But she is scarcely
more than a child. Surely, Lieutenant, it cannot be possible that you
have become interested in her?"
He smiled pleasantly. "At least eighteen, is she not? I was somewhat
impressed with her evident originality, and hoped to renew our slight
acquaintanceship here in more formal manner. She is your 'star' pupil,
then?"
"Why, she is not really in my school at all, but I outline the studies
she pursues at home, and lend her such books as I consider best adapted
for her reading. She is such a strange girl!"
"Indeed? She appeared to me to be extremely unconventional, with a
decided tendency for mischief. Is that your meaning?"
"Partially. She manages to do everything in a different way from other
people. Her mind seems peculiarly independent, and she is so
unreservedly Western in her ways and language. But I was referring
rather to her taste in books--she devours everything."
"You mean as a student?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so; at least she appears to possess the faculty
of absorbing every bit of information, like a sponge. Sometimes she
actually startles me with her odd questions; they are so unexpected and
abstruse, falling from the lips of so young a girl. Then her ideas are
so crude and uncommon, and she is so frankly outspoken, that I become
actually nervous when I am with her. I really believe Mr. Wynkoop
seeks to avoid meeting her, she has shocked him so frequently in
religious matters."
"Does she make light of his faith?"
"Oh, no, not that exactly, at least it is not her intention. But she
wants to know everything--why we believe this and why we believe that,
doctrines which no one else ever dreams of questioning, and he cannot
seem to make them clear to her mind. Some of her questions are so
irreverent as to be positively shocking to a spiritually minded person."
They lapsed into silence, swinging easily to the guidance of the music.
His face was grave and thoughtful. This picture just drawn of the
perverse Naida had not greatly lowered her in his estimation, although
he felt instinctively that Miss Spencer was not altogether pleased with
his evident interest in another. It was hardly in her nature patiently
to brook a rival, but she dissembled with all the art of a clever
woman, smiling happily up into his face as their eyes again met.
"It is very interesting to know that you two met in so unconventional a
way," she ventured, softly, "and so sly of her not even to mention it
to me. We are room-mates, you know, and consequently quite intimate,
although she possesses many peculiar characteristics which I cannot in
the least approve. But after all, Naida is really a good-hearted girl
enough, and she will probably outgrow her present irregular ways, for,
indeed, she is scarcely more than a child. I shall certainly do my
best to guide her aright. Would you mind giving me some details of
your meeting?"
For a moment he hesitated, feeling that if the girl had not seen fit to
confide her adventure to this particular friend, it was hardly his
place to do so. Then, remembering that he had already said enough to
arouse curiosity, which might easily be developed into suspicion, he
determined his course. In a few words the brief story was frankly
told, and apparently proved quite amusing to Miss Spencer.
"Oh, that was Naida, beyond a doubt," she exclaimed, with a laugh of
satisfaction. "It is all so characteristic of her. I only wonder how
she chanced to guess your name; but really the girl appears to possess
some peculiar gift in thus discerning facts hidden from others. Her
instincts seem so finely developed that at times she reminds me of a
wild animal."
This caustic inference did not please him, but he said nothing, and the
music coming to a pause, they slowly traversed the room.
"I presume, then, she is not present?" he said, quietly.
Miss Spencer glanced into his face, the grave tone making her
apprehensive that she might have gone too far.
"She was here earlier in the evening, but now that you remind me of it,
I do not recall having noticed her of late. But, really, Lieutenant,
it is no part of my duty to chaperon the young girl. Mrs. Herndon
could probably inform you of her present whereabouts."
Miss Spencer was conscious of the sting of failure, and her face
flushed with vexation. "It is extremely close in here, don't you
think?" she complained. "And I was so careless as to mislay my fan. I
feel almost suffocated."
"Did you leave it at home?" he questioned. "Possibly I might discover
a substitute somewhere in the room."
"Oh, no; I would never think of troubling you to such an extent. No
doubt this feeling of lassitude will pass away shortly. It was very
foolish of me, but I left the fan with my wraps at the hotel. It can
be recovered when we go across to supper."
In spite of Miss Spencer's quiet words of renunciation, there was a
look of pleading in her shyly uplifted eyes impossible to resist.
Brant promptly surrendered before this masked battery.
"It will be no more than a pleasure to recover it for you," he
protested, gallantly.
The stairs leading down from the hall entrance were shrouded in
darkness, the street below nearly deserted of loiterers, although
lights streamed forth resplendently from the undraped windows of the
Occidental and the hotel opposite. Assisted in his search by Mrs.
Guffy, the officer succeeded in recovering the lost fan, and started to
return. Just without the hotel door, under the confusing shadows of
the wide porch, he came suddenly face to face with a young woman, the
unexpected encounter a mutual and embarrassing surprise.