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Updated: May 21, 2025
"There has been a lot of talk among the ladies about well, er the fact is, it's that young Glenister. Mrs. Champian had the next state-room to them er him I should say on the way up from the States, and she saw things. Now, as far as I'm concerned, a girl can do what she pleases, but Mrs. Champian has her own ideas of propriety.
The show was over and the dance had begun, but she did not see it, for she was thinking rapidly with the eagerness of one who sees the end of a long and weary search. She did not notice the Bronco Kid beckoning to her nor the man with him, so the gambler brought his friend along and invaded her box. He introduced the man as Mr. Champian. "Do you feel like dancing?" the new-comer inquired.
Champian." He shrugged his shoulders the slightest bit, but it was eloquent, and she noted it. "Oh, I don't mean that he did it intentionally he's too decent a chap for that but anybody's tongue will wag to a beautiful girl! My lady Malotte is a jealous trick." "Malotte! Who is she?" Helen questioned, curiously. He seemed surprised. "I thought every one knew who she is.
"She IS a lady," said the Kid. He sat bolt upright and rigid, and the knuckles of his clinched hands were very white. In the shadow they did not note that his dark face was ghastly, nor did he say more except to bid Champian good-bye when he left, later on.
Mighty brazen, according to my wife. Mrs. Champian was on the same ship and says she was horribly shocked." Ah! Glenister had told her only half the tale, thought the girl. The truth was baring itself. At that moment Champian thought she looked the typical creature of the dance-halls, the crafty, jealous, malevolent adventuress. "And the hussy masquerades as a lady," she sneered.
"Good evening, Mr. Glenister," the lady said with acid cordiality. "Howdy, Mrs. Champian?" He moved away. She followed a step, staring at Helen. "Are you going ashore to-night or wait for morning?" "Don't know yet, I'm sure." Then aside to the girl he muttered, "Shake her, she's spying on us." "Who is she?" asked Miss Chester, a moment later. "Her husband manages one of the big companies.
"No; I'd rather look on. I feel sociable. You're a society man, Mr. Champian. Don't you know anything of interest? Scandal or the like?" "Can't say that I do. My wife attends to all that for the family. But I know there's lots of it. It's funny to me, the airs some of these people assume up here, just as though we weren't all equal, north of Fifty-three. I never heard the like."
As he led her to a seat they passed a group of women, among whom were Mrs. Champian and others whom he knew to be wives of men prominent in the town. He had seen some of them at tea in Judge Stillman's house, and therefore was astonished when they returned his greeting but ignored Helen. She shrank slightly, and he realized that there was something wrong; he could not guess what.
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