Beth Norvell

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.