Bressant

Bressant had no such delicate scruples, and would gladly have assisted

poor Bill through the open bow-window. He departed on his errand,

however, with nothing more than a look of intense dissatisfaction, which

was entirely lost upon the infatuated Reynolds.

"How lovely you do look to-night, Miss Valeyon! I almost think sometimes

it ain't fair anybody should look as lovely as you do. Elegant music

they've got to-night, ain't it? Come, now--just one turn. What?"

Cornelia actually had danced with this young gentleman on one or two

memorable occasions in the past, but was scarcely in the mood to do so

this evening. As she looked at him, now, she wondered how she ever had.

What a difference there is in men I and even more in the way we regard

them at different times. Bressant, simply by being himself, had

annihilated all such small claims to social life as Bill Reynolds ever

possessed.

"I'm not dancing to-night, thank you," said Cornelia; but she smiled so

as wellnigh to heal the wound her words inflicted. "What makes you so

late?"

Now, the fact was that Mr. Reynolds had been weak enough to allow

himself to be drawn into conversation with some friends near the

entrance of the hotel possessing the bar-room with the spittoons and

colored prints already alluded to; and, being the Fourth of July, which,

like many other days, comes but once a year, and a "dry night," as his

friends assured him, he had further given evidence of lack of stamina by

accepting an invitation to "take a damp," When he had finally succeeded

in making his escape, he was conscious that it was in a tolerably damp

condition; and it had occurred to him, as a brilliant idea, to put his

head beneath the pump by way of freshening up his wits. The effect had

been, for the moment, undoubtedly clarifying, and he made his entrance

into Abbie's with a great deal of confidence; more, perhaps, than was

entirely warrantable; for the muddy whisky was still circulating in his

blood, and the light, the close, hot air, and the excitement

within-doors, were rapidly undoing the good work which the pump had

accomplished. It was probably a dim suspicion that such was the case,

which made him hesitate, and stick his hands in his pockets, and screw

his boot-heel into the floor, when Cornelia asked him why he was so

late. But the question had been asked in pure idleness, and not with any

interest or purpose to elicit a reply. The next minute she relieved him

from his embarrassment by speaking again.

"Would you mind doing me a favor, Bill?"

It seemed to Bill that, for the sake of hearing his Christian name from

her lips, he would be willing to forswear all else that made life most

dear--Havana cigars and muddy whisky included; and he was proceeding

with impressive gravity to make a statement to that effect, when

Cornelia once more interrupted him.