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Updated: June 27, 2025
He had enjoyed the party better than any he had ever attended. He had not been at many. Colonel French, who had entered with zest into the spirit of the occasion, participated in the reel. Every time Graciella touched his hand, it was with the consciousness of a new element in their relations. Until then her friendship for Colonel French had been perfectly ingenuous.
Graciella begged the colonel to excuse them, and led the way to the parlour, followed by her young friends. Mrs. Treadwell had fallen asleep, and was leaning comfortably back in her armchair. Miss Laura excused herself, brought a veil, and laid it softly across her mother's face. "The night air is not damp," she said, "and it is pleasanter for her here than in the house.
"Gwine ter run all night, Gwine ter run all day, I'll bet my money on de bobtail nag, Oh, who's gwine ter bet on de bay?" Ben ran out into the hall. Graciella had changed her position and was sitting alone, perturbed in mind. "Come on, Graciella, let's get into the Virginia reel; it's the last one." Graciella obeyed mechanically. Ben, on the contrary, was unusually animated.
Even the old times paled by comparison with this new golden age; and the long years of poverty and hard luck that stretched behind him seemed to the old man like a distant and unpleasant dream. The party came off at the appointed time, and was a distinct success. Graciella had made a raid on the cedar chest, and shone resplendent in crinoline, curls, and a patterned muslin.
Graciella felt very young indeed somewhere in the neighbourhood of ten, she put it afterward, when she reviewed the situation in a calmer frame of mind as she crept softly away from the window and around the house to the back door, and up the stairs and into her own chamber, where, all oblivious of danger to her clothes or her complexion, she threw herself down upon her own bed and burst into a passion of tears.
"Uncle Peter," said Phil, while they were on their way home, "there couldn't be any ha'nts at all in the graveyard where my grandfather is buried, could there? Graciella read a lot of the tombstones to me one day, and they all said that all the people were good, and were resting in peace, and had gone to heaven. Tombstones always tell the truth, don't they, Uncle Peter?"
She had liked him because he was interesting, and good to her in a friendly way. Now she realised that he was a millionaire, eligible for marriage, from whom a young wife, if she understood her business, might secure the gratification of every wish. The serpent had entered Eden. Graciella had been tendered the apple. She must choose now whether she would eat.
But I go to-night not one hour longer than I must, will I remain in this town. I must bid your mother and Graciella good-bye." He went into the house. Mrs. Treadwell was excited and sorry, and would have spoken at length, but the colonel's farewells were brief. "I cannot stop to say more than good-bye, dear Mrs. Treadwell. I have spent a few happy months in my old home, and now I am going away.
Miss Laura played a minuet, which the young people danced. Major McLean danced the highland fling, and some of the ladies sang old-time songs, and war lyrics, which stirred the heart and moistened the eyes. "Graciella," said the colonel to his young friend, during the evening, "our party is a great success. It was your idea.
His eyes flew to Graciella as the needle to the pole. She was dancing with Colonel French. The music stopped, and a crowd of young fellows surrounded her. When the next dance, which was a waltz, began, she moved out upon the floor in the arms of Barclay Fetters. Ben swore beneath his breath. He had heard tales of Barclay Fetters which, if true, made him unfit to touch a decent woman.
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