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Rh She danced remarkably, but he was glad when he was tapped on the shoulder and another brother claimed Hester. The whisky breath had repelled him.

As the evening wore on he danced with a good many girls who had whisky breaths. One girl clung to him as they danced and whispered, “Hold me up, kid; I’m ginned/’ He had to rush a third, a dainty blond child, to the porch railing. She was n’t a pretty sight as she vomited into the gar¬ den; nor did Hugh find her gasped comment, “The seas are rough to-night,” amusing. Another girl went sound asleep in a chair and had to be carried up-stairs and put to bed.

A number of the brothers were hilarious; a few had drunk too much and were sick; one had a “cry¬ ing jag.” There were men there, however, who were not drinking at all, and they were making gallant efforts to keep the sober girls away from the less sober girls and the inebriated brothers.

Hugh was not drinking. The idea of drinking at a dance was offensive to him; he thought it in¬ sulting to the girls. The fact that some of the girls were drinking horrified him. He did n’t mind their smoking—well, not very much; but drinking? That was going altogether too far.

About midnight he danced again with Hester Sheville, not because he wanted to but because she had insisted. He had been standing gloomily in the