Page:The leopard's spots - a romance of the white man's burden-1865-1900 (IA leopardsspotsrom00dixo).pdf/275

 "Don't tease me, dear," said Helen as she put her pretty rosy cheek against the dark beauty of the South. "Do you really think he likes me seriously?"

"He's crazy about you, goose!"

There was the sound of a kiss.

"I can't tell stories about it like you, Sallie, I'm afraid I'm in love with him," she whispered.

"Well, I'll make him court you to-morrow or have him thrashed, if you say so."

"Don't you dare!"

"Then do just as I tell you about this ball and get yourself up regardless."

On the night of the ball, Gaston, sitting out on the porch, felt nervous and fidgety, like a fish out of water. He knew he had no business there, and yet he couldn't go away. They had a quarrel about the ball. Sallie had insisted that Gaston honour her by coming in evening dress whether he danced or not.

"But, Miss Sallie, I'll feel like a fool. Everybody in the country knows that I never entered a ball-room."

"Do you care so much what everybody thinks about you?"

"No, but I care what I think of myself."

"Well, if you don't come in full dress suit, I won't speak to you."

He turned pale in spite of his effort at self control. Then a queer steel-like look came into his eyes.

"I shall be more than sorry to fail to please you, but I have no dress suit. I have never had time for social frivolities. I can't afford to buy one for this occasion. I couldn't be nigger enough to hire one, so that's the end of it. I'll have to come dressed in my own fashion or stay at home."

"Then you can stay at home," she snapped.

"I'll not do it," he coolly replied.