But
the ball came, and they were both released from their duties, and
everybody was left free to dance as only the western people love to
dance.
It was then that her bitter cup was filled to overflowing. Jeff danced
six times with Mrs. Van Blooren. Six times, and one supper extra,
while she had to content herself with a miserable two dances with the
one man who, to her stood out foremost among all men.
It was during the long hours of that dreary ball that she had
encountered her father's curious regard, and now she wondered if he had
seen what she had seen. If he had understood as she understood.
Nan wanted to cry. As she lay there on her snowy bed, restless, and
wakeful, and troubled, there were certainly moments when her tired eyes
filled with tears. But she did not, would not cry. She smiled to
herself, and even laughed. She ridiculed herself and made jest of her
absurd pretensions. She told herself a hundred times she had no claim
upon Jeff. He was free to do as he chose, to dance all night with any
Mrs.
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