Bressant had no such delicate scruples, and would gladly have assisted
poor Bill through the open bow-window. He departed on his errand,
however, with nothing more than a look of intense dissatisfaction, which
was entirely lost upon the infatuated Reynolds.
"How lovely you do look to-night, Miss Valeyon! I almost think sometimes
it ain't fair anybody should look as lovely as you do. Elegant music
they've got to-night, ain't it? Come, now--just one turn. What?"
Cornelia actually had danced with this young gentleman on one or two
memorable occasions in the past, but was scarcely in the mood to do so
this evening. As she looked at him, now, she wondered how she ever had.
What a difference there is in men I and even more in the way we regard
them at different times. Bressant, simply by being himself, had
annihilated all such small claims to social life as Bill Reynolds ever
possessed.
"I'm not dancing to-night, thank you," said Cornelia; but she smiled so
as wellnigh to heal the wound her words inflicted. "What makes you so
late?"
Now, the fact was that Mr. Reynolds had been weak enough to allow
himself to be drawn into conversation with some friends near the
entrance of the hotel possessing the bar-room with the spittoons and
colored prints already alluded to; and, being the Fourth of July, which,
like many other days, comes but once a year, and a "dry night," as his
friends assured him, he had further given evidence of lack of stamina by
accepting an invitation to "take a damp," When he had finally succeeded
in making his escape, he was conscious that it was in a tolerably damp
condition; and it had occurred to him, as a brilliant idea, to put his
head beneath the pump by way of freshening up his wits. The effect had
been, for the moment, undoubtedly clarifying, and he made his entrance
into Abbie's with a great deal of confidence; more, perhaps, than was
entirely warrantable; for the muddy whisky was still circulating in his
blood, and the light, the close, hot air, and the excitement
within-doors, were rapidly undoing the good work which the pump had
accomplished. It was probably a dim suspicion that such was the case,
which made him hesitate, and stick his hands in his pockets, and screw
his boot-heel into the floor, when Cornelia asked him why he was so
late. But the question had been asked in pure idleness, and not with any
interest or purpose to elicit a reply. The next minute she relieved him
from his embarrassment by speaking again.
"Would you mind doing me a favor, Bill?"
It seemed to Bill that, for the sake of hearing his Christian name from
her lips, he would be willing to forswear all else that made life most
dear--Havana cigars and muddy whisky included; and he was proceeding
with impressive gravity to make a statement to that effect, when
Cornelia once more interrupted him.