Greenfield Evening Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 19 June 1895 — Page 4

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CHAPTER IV.

The Younger Sons celebrated tlieii fortnightly ball that evening in the dining room of the Colonnade Honse, the only suggestion of a colonnade in connection with the house being the row oi hitching posts embedded in the dried mtid of the street before it.

The Younger Sons was a select bachelor club of the highest social aspirations. The sons were not all in their first youth. Some of them, it is to be feared, had known moments which were not those of aspiration but, as sons go, they represented a tolerable filial average. There might have been something deprecatory in the modest title they had chosen. At all events, they had found favor with the indulgent mothers of the camp, who accepted their invitations and danced with them at the fortnightly ball, with ^he assumed approbation of the fathers.

Hilgard could have been a Younger Son had he desired. He had complimeniary tickets sent him for the dances, for which unusual attention he was indebted to feminine if not to maternal influence. Men were at a discount on these occasions. They stood about in one another's way, and trod on one another's toes, against the wall, in a dreary, superfluous manner, which would have touched the sympathies of women not already overburdened with masculine claimants for them. Hilgard, having been gratuitously chosen as an object of feminine sympathy, would doubtless not have been sent to the wall, but heretofore lie had been an unresponsive and ungrateful object. He had given away his ball tickets, and his dress suit had remained folded in the bottom of his trunk. Tonight, however, at half past 9 o'clock, a visitor who stepped in out of the fresh night air found him sitting at his office desk in full evening costume writing telegrams.

It was a young lawyer of Hilgard's acquaintance, who, after a careless greeting, regarding him critically from a comfortable vantage in front of the fire, remarked: "Rather more style than the occasion calls for, but yon will do very well. "What occasion?" Hilgard inquired, folding his telegrams. "A snug little supper at Archer's. It's rather late to ask you. Fact is, you weren't included in the first deaL I asked Pitt to meet two Chicago men, just in, but he's gone back on me at the last minute. Have you got something else on hand?" "I'm going to the Prodigals. This was the painful perversion which the title of Younger Sons had suffered in unfraternal circles of the camp. "I'm getting rather sick of this crawling 'bout underground. It's a comfort to stretch one's legs and get on a suit of clothes that isn't decorated in relief with candle grease." "Come and stretch your legs under Archer's hospitable board. You won't find any use for them at the Prodigals! You can't get a partner at this hour. Every card in the room is fulL "I may not dance, but I'm going. Shall I send you a substitute?" "If you can find me a good one, but you'd much better come yourself and eat some trout. The Chicago men will think from your get up that Led Horse stock is booming. I won't tell them your ore is chiefly in the Shoshone bins.

As the legal counsel for the Led Horse, intimately acquainted with its difficulties, Wilkinson might have been pardoned this jest, but Hilgard flushed as he replied: "My get up was not furnished by the Led Horse. There is not much of the boy left in me, but I'm going to give what there is a chance tonight. Tomorrow"— He repented apparently of having begun the sentence and left it frankly unfinished, lifting his head and following with his eyes a ring of smoke that floated upward to the ceiling.

Tomorrow you' 11 bid goodby to youth forevermore, eh?" Wilkinson remarked, eying the young superintendent with some amusement. "You're expecting your gray hairs by the next stage?" "I'm expecting Conrath by the next stage. He is doing his best to promote my gray hairs." "How are you getting on with your testimony?" Wilkinson inquired. "I'm going to hunt up some tomorrow. Confound it all, it's the worst mess you ever saw. We may have to appeal to the unwritten law, after all!" "That's what you're doing tonight, isn't it, with the .Prodigals' ball for a tribunal? Conrath, I take it, isn't the defendant in this case!" "I hadn't thought of retaining you for counsel, Wilke," Hilgard retorted. "What time is your supper?" "Eleven, sharp. The Chicago men want to take in the town a little before they eat."

The two young men rode back to the camp together and separated at the telegaph offica Hilgard did not enter the ballroom at once, but reconnoitered the scene from the office of the hotel, which communicated with it. Those who were not called to the feast were apt to congregate here and pick tip a few festal ariumbs on the threshold.

Hilgard felt roused without being particularly happy. He was not analyzing his mood, or his right to dedicate these few hours, on the eve of an arduous struggle, to his personal claims. He was satisfying himself as to whether his fair neighbor of the Shoshone persuasion was among the dancers. Failing to discover her, he stepped within the doorway for abetter view and found himself just'behind a lady of his acquaintance, who was uarticiriatinff in tlie old fashioned

quadrille then in progress. He was about to change his position when she saw him and began to talk to him in the pauses of her facile performance.

She was a lively matron, whose six months' residence in the camp made her a veteran in its society. In spite of a childish face and light, inconsequent manner, she looked no longer young. The subtle change was like a premature blight on a still full veined flower. Her youthfully rounded cheek had a slightly crumpled texture, and her eyes, of the blue of childhood, were too widely, restlessly expanded. "What has brought you here at last, you incorrigible hermit? Or rather, who has brought you? You have not deigned to come and dance with us married ladies, but no sooner"—she was "balancing" to one of the peripatetic partners in "Gentlemen to the left I" and now she was whirled by the tips of her fingers and finished the sentence looking at Hilgard over her shoulder as she received the advances of the next—"no sooner do we boast of a lovely young girl from the east but you are here."

She whirled with No. 2, and continued, with her eyes still on Hilgard as sha turned to No. 8: "But you are too late for anything but an introduction. It serves you quite right."

Her partner now seized her by both hands and she was swept away in the final''Promenade all!"

Hilgard moved on among the ranks of black coated wallflowers, but encountered her again as the quadrille broke up. She slipped easily from her late partner's arm. to his find addressed him with the utmost animation, which yet missed somehow the full accent of gayety. "Why don't you ask me to introduce you.'" "To whom, if you please?" "Ah, what a fraud you are! I can see your eyes wandering about everywhere in search of her. You needn't pretend that you don't know who I mean!" "I suppose you arc talking of your lovely young girl from the east but how am I to tell her from the married ladies?" said Hilgard, gazing around in mock bewilderment. "That's very pretty of you, Mr. Hilgard. I see you are trying to make your peace with me. You know very well that you are talking to her chaperon. "Am I indeed?" Hilgard exclaimed, looking down into the upturned face of this guardian of inexperienced youth. "What a fearful responsibility! You look quite worn with it already! Could I possibly be of any assistance to you in your duties?" "Not the very least, I thank you. I have been enthusiastically assisted already. She's having a perfect 'ovation.' I must say she keeps her head very well for a girl who has been out so little." "Do you suppose a young, girl from the east would call this being 'out?' Hilgard asked indifferently. He was quite sure that Mrs. Denny could not possibly be the chaperon of the young girl he had come to see, and wan very little moved by this picture of her as a successful candidate for the social honors of the camp. "Well, I don't know what you would call being 'out,' if this isn't! A perfect wealth of partners, and so cosmopolitan! Why, a girl could dance with a man from every state in the Union!"

Hilgard had never felt a greater distaste for the society of the little person who had so freely bestowed herself upon him than tonight. He wondered why he did not escape from her. There was a fatality about women of this kind, he had observed, and vaguely questioned whether, as related to social brutality in man, they represented cause or effect.

Mrs. Denny at this moment leaned from his arm with a smile of recognition to a young lady who passed them with the circling promenaders. Her complexion exhibited a rather weather beaten fairness her dry, lifeless yellow hair covered her forehead to her eyebrows

In the smooth involutions of the dance. the sleeves of her black satin dress were cut very high on the shoulders, giving her the appearance of a perpetual shrug. Her throat and wrists were painfully small, and the hand which fluttered a passing greeting with her fan had a meager, attenuated expression in pathetic contrast to its gay gesture. "Is that your young girl from the east?" Hilgard asked carelessly. "Mercy, no! Lou Palmer came from the east ten years ago! Lou has had a' beautiful time, but she begins to show it a little." "Is a 'beautiful time' so disastrous in its effects?" "Well, perhaps Lou has had rather too good a time," said Mrs. Denny, with a reflective air. "Here is the cynosure," Hilgard began, then stopped, lifting his head with a quick, characteristic movement and nervously touching his mustache. In the presence of the girl who stood before bim the lisrht comment died on his lira

The little crowd of Younger Sons, which had indicated the force of some central attraction, liad parted suddenly, allowing the undoubted object of their homage to pass. She had apparently distinguished none of them with her favor, and her eyes had rather a dazed absence of expression as she came toward Mrs. Denny.

It was Conrath's sister—the fair Shoshone—in the white shimmer of her maiden bravery, her freshness uu dimmed by the warm dusty air of the ball or its miscellaneous homage.

She glanced at Hilgard with doubtful recognition. Then perceiving the identity of this splendid youth with the clay covered knight of the prospect hole, she gave him a slight, cold greeting, too cold for the blush that flamed like a danger signal in her cheek. She proudly repudiated the traitorous color, however, and met his brilliant gaze a moment quietly, as a lady may. "I need not introduce you, I see," observed the astute chaperon. "You know Mr. Hilgard, Miss Conrath. He has not honored our poor little dances until tonight. You must help to insure his coming again."

The next dance was forming on the floor. Hilgard, leaning against the whitewashed wall, reckless of his black coat, found himself forgetting all the incongruities of the meeting in the satisfaction it gave him. It was inconceivable that she should be there in her flowerlike brightness among all these warped or stale humanities. Conrath's admiration of Mrs. Denny was no secret in the camp, but that he should expect his young sister to share it seemed incredible. It was more probable that he had sacrificed his sister's tastes to his own.

However, there she was, and she would be there but a moment. Already her partner for the dance was industriously searching for her among the promenaders and groups along the wall Hilgard made use of his height and breadtli of shoulder to defeat this search in an unobtrusive way. He was looking down on the circle of lamplight which rested on the top of the young girl's head, crossed by a soft line of shadow where the maidenly parting sank out of sight. The drooping rosy face, turned a little away from him, was in the shadow, too, and the small ear, innocent of jewels, glowed as pink as a baby's warm from the pressure of the pillow.

Her petulance of their first meeting, when she had lost her equanimity as well as her way, was quite gone. The shy alarm of her later geeting had alro changed to a soft, surprised air of doubtful confidence, as if among the many alien faces around her she had found in his, so lately repelled, an unexpected, bewildering sympathy. She looked at him again and again, with the brief, wondering glance of a child lost in a crowd whom some unknown friend has taken by the hand.

Hilgard felt suddenly deeply sobered. The excitement in his blood, which had been gathering with the thickening plot of his troubles—which had driven him here tonight—climaxed suddenly in her presence. It strung his rich, young voice to the lyric pitch, controlled by the effort not to meet too eagerly her hesitating preference. "I wonder if you like a triumph of this kind as much as most girls?" he asked, and felt at once that the question was half an insult. "Is this a triumph?" "Oh, no, not this," Hilgard went on desperately, with too keen a perception of the briefness of the passing moment, "but what I have just deprived you of. "Do you imagine that I liked that?" looking at him reproachfully. "You cannot have anything better than the best the place affords. May I see your card a moment? I shall not even go through the form of asking you for a dance. I only want to satisfy myself that you really have the best." He detached the pendent tassel from her bracelet, where it had caught. "Yes," he said, after a moment's grave perusal, "it is a proud report! The flower of the camp have hastened to enroll themselves. I should have been too late an horn' ago!''

The inevitable partner was now very warm indeed on his quest, and it was no longer possible to frustrate his claims.

Skirting along the wall, fanned by the circling wings of the waltz, Hilgard joined an acquaintance seated in a quiet corner, near the door—a well preserved Younger Son, with afresh colored face and a humorous, uncertain, exaggerated expression, as if the facial muscles had become weakened in their action, like the keys of along used piano. His very respectable name of Thomas Godfrey had been for many years ignored generally by his friends in favor of the gratuitous title of doctor. When applied to him, it became somehow a familiar and affectionate rather than a dignified sobriquet.

Doctor,'' said Hilgard, do you want to be an instrument of fate tonight?" "Of whose fate, George? I've been an instrument of my own fate for fifty odd years. The result doesn't encourage me to meddle with anybody else's. "You haven't been passive enough. Tonight there is a chance for you to be perfectly passive. You've only to change places with me for a few hours, or let me change with you." "Heaven forbid!" Godfrey interrupted. "Do you call that being passive?" "Wait till you hear me. It's abetter bargain than you think. I'm too lato for a dance, but you can have my supper at Archer's for one of yours, if you'll give me my choice of your partners.

The doctor fixed Hilgard sternly with his heroi-comic gaze. "I understand your little theory. Passivity for other folks, while you keep rustling! How many men have you made this offer to before you fell upon me?" "Doctor, it is open only to you," said Hilgard, with a magnanimous air. "Perhaps you're in coUusion with some young lady in the room. I wouldn't be surprised! You've been studying her card and picked me out, between you, as the most gullible man on her list. George, I'm amazed at your impudence!" The doctor meditated mournfully upon this quality in Hilgard, Who appeared to be a favorite with him. .. [TO BE CONTINUED.]

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