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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane," rejoined Harry in cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the better prepared to defend her. Willits's lip curled. "I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct, although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card, Miss Kate," and he caught it from her unresisting hand. "There what did I tell you!"
Now it was Willits's sister who had to be considered and especially invited to Wesley a thin wisp of a woman with tortoise-shell sidecombs and bunches of dry curls, who always dressed in shiny black silk and whose only ornament was her mother's hair set in a breastpin; or it was his father by whom she must sit when he came over in his gig a bluff, hearty man who generally wore a red waistcoat with big bone buttons and high boots with tassels in front.
Old Morris Murdoch, who knew Willits's father intimately, being a strong Clay man himself, arrived at one of these functions with the astounding information that Willits had called on Miss Seymour, wearing his hat in her presence to conceal his much-beplastered head.
The salient features of his own short career passed in review: the fluttering of the torn card as it fell to the floor; the sharp crack of Willits's pistol; the cold, harsh tones of his father's voice when he ordered him from the house; Kate's dear eyes streaming with tears and her uplifted hands their repellent palms turned toward him as she sobbed "Go away my heart is broken!"
A letter would greatly cheer him in his loneliness." "But he won't write!" she exclaimed with some bitterness she had not yet noticed Willits's approach "he'll never write or speak to me again." "But you will if he does?" pleaded St. George, the thought of his boy's loneliness overmastering every other feeling. "But he won't, I tell you never NEVER!" "But if he should, my child? If "
On his face was the look of a man who had a duty to perform and who intended to go through with it come what might. On the opposite side of the room stood Willits with two young men, his most intimate friends. They had followed him out of the ballroom to learn the cause of his sudden outburst, and so far had only heard Willits's side of the affair.
There was even talk of sending him to the legislature, where her own father, the Honorable Prim, had achieved his title. She wished, of course, that Mr. Willits's hair was not quite so red; she wished, too, that the knuckles on his hands were not so large and bony and that he was not always at her beck and call; but these, she was forced to admit, were trifles in the make-up of a fine man.
He had touched one of her tender spots pride of birth was something she detested. "Don't talk nonsense, Harry," she replied in a slightly impatient voice. Moods changed with our Kate as unexpectedly as April showers. "What difference should it make to you or anybody else whether Langdon Willits's grandmother was a countess or a country girl, so she was honest and a lady?"
Pity Marse Harry hadn't practised some mo'. Ef he had ter do it ag'in I reckon he'd pink him so he neber be cavortin' 'roun' like he is now." Willits's sudden appearance filled St. George with ill-concealed anxiety.
He knew what Kate would say knew what she would do, and knew what she would command him to do, could she have heard Willits's continued insults in this very room but a moment before while St. George was trying to make him apologize to his host and so end the disgraceful incident. "Then I'll go and bring in the colonel and see what he can do!" burst out Teackle, starting for the door.
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