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Dick took the glass and raised it to his eyes for a minute. "That's right," he said. "They're making medicine over something. See what you make of it, Keith." Keith took the glass and looked through it. It was like a moving picture; one could see, but one wanted the interpretation of sound. "We'd better ride over," he said quietly. "Don't worry, Miss Lansell; it probably isn't anything serious.
Lansell reflected, as she watched Beatrice chatting to her two cavaliers, with the most decorous impartiality. Sir Redmond seemed in high spirits, which argued well; Mrs. Lansell gave herself up to the pleasure of the drive with a heart free from anxiety.
There, he has caught them." She leaned back and clasped her hands, ready to meet with fortitude whatever fate might have in store. "He's bringing them out to us, mama. Can't you see the man is only trying to help us?" Mrs. Lansell, beginning herself to suspect him of honest intentions, sniffed dissentingly and let it go at that.
Like Beatrice, she dodged. "Little boys," she announced weakly, "should not speak until they're spoken to." Dick came near strangling on a shred of chicken. "Can't she go, gran'mama? Say, can't she? Tell Be'trice to go home wis us, gran'mama!" "Beatrice" Mrs. Lansell swallowed "is not a little child any longer, Dorman. She is a woman and can do as she likes.
She promptly closed her eyes again, and gave a sleepy sigh. "Beatrice, did you refuse Sir Redmond again?" "M-m were you speaking mama?" Mrs. Lansell, endeavoring to keep her temper, repeated the question. Beatrice began to feel that she was an abused girl. She lifted herself to her elbow, and thumped the pillow spitefully. "Again? Dear me, mama! I've never refused him once!"
Lansell "Hide your purse, my dear!" "I I where?" Miss Hayes was all a-flutter with fear. "Drop it down beside the wheel, into the water. Quick! I shall drop my watch." "He he is coming on this side! He can see!" Her whisper was full of entreaty and despair. "Give them here. He can't see on both sides of the buggy at once." Mrs. Lansell, being an American a Yankee at that was a woman of resource.
"Don't do that, Miss Lansell! The fellow isn't worth it. He's only living the life he chose for himself, and he doesn't mind, not half as much as you imagine. I know how you feel I felt sorry for him myself but he doesn't deserve it, you know." He stopped; not being able, just at the moment, to think of anything more to say about Kelly.
Sir Redmond's teeth went together with a click, and he picked up the pepper shaker mechanically and peppered his salad until it was perfectly black, and Beatrice wondered how he ever expected to eat it. Mrs. Lansell dropped her fork on the floor, and had to have a clean one brought. Miss Hayes sent a frightened glance at her brother. Dick sat and ate fried chicken. "Why, Be'trice?
Not one of her Eastern acquaintances would have recognized Beatrice Lansell, the society beauty, in this remarkable-looking young woman, attired in a most haphazard fashion, with a face grimed like a chimney sweep, red eyelids drooping over tired, smarting eyes, and disheveled, ash-filled hair topped by a man's gray felt hat. When she smiled her teeth shone dead white, like a negro's.
Lansell's ranch, and the horses broke something and ran away, and Dick Mr. Lansell has gone to catch them. We're waiting until he does." "I see." From the look in his eyes one might guess that what he saw pleased him. "Which direction did they take?"
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