The swinging strains of the dancer's accompaniment concluded with a
blare of noisy triumph, the mad enthusiasts out in front wildly
shouting her name above the frantic din of applause, while, flushed and
panting, the agile Mexican dancer swept into the darkened wings like a
scarlet bird.
"Ah, de Americana!" she exclaimed, her eyes yet blazing from
excitement, poising herself directly in front of her silent watcher.
"Señorita, it ees not de same as yours--dey like you, si; but dey lofe
Mercedes."
Miss Norvell smiled gently, her gaze on the other's flushed, childish
face, and extended her hand.
"There seems ample room for both of us," she replied, pleasantly, "yet
your dancing is truly wonderful. It is an art, and you must let me
thank you."
It is difficult to understand why, but the untamed, passionate girl,
stung in some mysterious manner by these quietly spoken words of
appreciation, instantly drew her slight form erect.
"You nevar forget you not one of us, do you?" she questioned in sudden
bitterness of spirit. "Pah! maybe you tink I care what you like. I
dance because I lofe to; because it sets my blood on fire. I no care
for all your airs of fine lady."
"I exceedingly regret you should feel so. I certainly spoke in
kindness and appreciation. Would you permit me to pass?"
The angry young Mexican swept back her scarlet skirts as though in
disdain, her white shoulders uplifted. She did not know why she felt
thus vindictive; to save her soul she could not have told the reason,
yet deep down within her passionate heart there existed a hatred for
this white, silent American, whose slightest word sounded to her like
rebuke. She stood there still, watching suspiciously, smouldering
dislike burning in her black eyes, when Winston suddenly stepped from
the concealing shadows with a word of unexpected greeting. She noticed
the sudden flush sweep into Miss Norvell's cheek, the quick uplifting
of her eyes, the almost instant drooping again of veiling lashes, and,
quickly comprehending it all, stepped promptly forward just far enough
to obtain a clear view of the young man's face. The next moment the
two had vanished into the night without. Mercedes laughed unpleasantly
to herself, her white teeth gleaming.
"Ah, Merciful Mother! so my ver' fine lady has found herself a lofer
here already. Sapristi, an' he is well worth lookin' at! I vill ask
of de stage manager his name."
Outside, beneath the faint glimmer of the stars, Winston offered his
arm, and Miss Norvell accepted it silently. It was no more than a
short stroll to the hotel, and the street at that particular hour was
sufficiently deserted, so the young man rather keenly felt the evident
constraint of his companion. It impressed him as unnatural, and he
felt inclined to attribute her state of mind to the unpleasant scene he
had just beheld.