HER FIRST BALL.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 37, 9 December 1893, Page 13

HER FIRST BALL.

(Prom Harper’s Weekly.)

There was a great deal of unusual excitement in the pretty little valley of the Popo-Agie. There was always plenty of excitement there. Miners, cowboys, farmers, Indians, andsoldiers —-put them together anywhere, and there will be plenty of excitement. It was the first social event known in the history of Lander. It was a ball. Tom Osborne had cleared the floor of his storehouse for the aflair. The women had been cooking good things to eat for the three preceding days. The men had decorated the hall with pine boughs fresh from the snow-cov-ered Wind River mountains. PegLeg, Mexican Joe, and Dutch Pete had promised to be on hand with their fiddles, and they were never known to fail to be present at anything when they promised to be, although PegLeg would have to make a three-day journey in one with his mule team to keep his promise, and Dutch Pete would have to leave for a whole night the little herd of cattle that he hoped, in a blind trusting sort of a would some day make him rich. Oceans of snowy chippings of spermaceti candle had been strewn over the floor of the storehouse, under the experienced direction of the “ schoolmarm ” who was no “ school-marm” at all, because she was a young man from the East. And there had been a constant call at the single store in Lander for -t b’iled shirts,” linen collars, fancy handkerchiefs, bright-col-ored stuffs for dresses, new store clothes, and new boots and shoes that was at once very gratifying to the proprietor of the store, and indicative of a growing civilization.

But it was mad excitement to her. She could hardly wait for it to occur. It was her first ball. “ Buckskin Nell,” they called her, because of the buckskin pony she rode with all the dash and skill of a cowboy. Helen Whittimore was her real name, and she was the only daughter—of old John Whittimore, who had gone West in the sixties to make his fortune, and had never made it. He had been a gentleman once. What her mother was, Hell did not know, for she had died when Hellie was a baby. At anyrate, between them they had bequeathed a brave little heart and a beautiful disposition to the child, who was thereafter to be brought up almost without the society of women. She was a lady by instinct, notwithstanding the remarkable way she dashed around on her buckskin pony and the rather bad grammar she used. She was sixteen, pretty, and fresh as

a wild rose, with her clear complexion and laughing eyes. She had read a good deal, and formed some ideas of the great world (very queer ideas some of them), and she had her ambitions. The men of Popo-Agie Valley saw her bud from a romping little girl into the very prettiest girl in Sweetwater County with a great deal of interest and more or less astonishment. She had already caused a good many of them to sigh and look melancholy, but not one had ever dared as yet to propose for her hand, or even show her any marked attention. Even the imported school-teacher know that he was not good enough for her, and kept out of the way, which was a wise thing for him to do, for he was not particularly strong, and it was more than probable that the man who married “ Buckskin Kell ” would have to fight for her more than once. Jealousy, too, makes a man s hand awfully steady when he aims a pistol, and the school-teacher was not a good shot at all.

It was merely a matter of quiet amuse ment to Lieutenant Hardy. He would stroll over from his camp, leavingl his soldiers in the charge of his first sergeant, every day, and take a look at the preparations. Occasionally, in a lazy way, he would offer a suo-°"estion or two. He had heen a hop manager at West Point in cadet days (a tremendous honor), and after his graduation had led many a german and figured ir many a flirtation. It was hardly to he expected that he w'Oiild condescend to dance at this backwoods affair, but his suggestions were considered invaluable. Even the school-teacher listened deferentially when he explained a few pretty figures for the opening and closing of the ball. He was considerably more interested in it, howmver, because it was to be her first ball. He had acquired quite a liking for hex’. He had discovered the latent ladyhood in hex, and for the few weeks he had been in camp near hex* father s punch he had made quite a study of her. A fellow jluis to do something to keep his mind busy when he is away from bis books and post duties, and then she was awfully pretty. He bad advised hex’ what to weax*, and had given her a few lessons in the waltzT By his advice she was to wear a s’ mple dress of wdxite muslin, with a bine sash. The other women would look horrible with their gaudy colours and ill-cut diseases, be knew, and be expected her to make a sensation. He quietly gave the young school-teacher the hint to escort her, for he himself merely intended to look on. It would "hardly be in keeping with his social position as an officer 1 in the array, in fact, as the most dashing young lieutenant in his regiment, to dan.ce at such an affair as that. He was a trifle surprised when she asked him if she should accept the scheol-teacher’s proffered attentions. Fi’om her manner he knew that it was a x’ather broad bint to him, and he was a ware that it hurt her a good deal when he told her to go with that young man. Evidently she had heen expecting his courtesy for the ((occasion. But he did not pay any attention to the fact. It was notlxing to him.

He did not go near her on the day of the hop. He knew she would expect him, and he had what many a finer lady had called a “most contrary disposition.” Along in the evening fie walked leisurely over from his camp. The ball had already begun, and he smiled as he entered the room. The crowd was even more interesting t tan he thought it would be. The avkwardness of the men, and the ieeble attempts at style of the women, the three tiddlers sawing away for dear life, even the uproariousness of the crowd "were more absurd than he had hoped. He leaned up against the doorway, well aware that in his faded blouse and cavalry boots be looked more the gentleman than any man in that room would ever look or ever 1a 1 looked in his life. He did not see her at first, for she was standing near the door at which he had entered, and but ten feet from his side. As he looked calmly around he caught sight of lier, and know from lior manner and.

blush that she had been looking at him, and had turned away her eyes in a little fit of anger. He repressed an exclamation. If he had been in a civilised hop-room he would have said, quite aloud: “By Jove! What a beauty!” He had not expected her to do half as well with her white muslin and blue ribbon. He did not know what exquisite beauty she in reality possessed. The old excitement of the dance, spurred on by the presence of youth and beauty, came back to him. Should he dance with her P He confessed that he would like to, after all. He would make her still more of a sensation if he were to dance with her, and no other woman in the [room. But he would have to do it in a patronising way, or she might think too seriously of it. He concluded to do it. It would be a clever thing to tell to the young ladies at more pretentious affairs when he should go East on leave of absence. He walked gracefully over to her, and bade her a good evening in his most gallant way. She blushed a good deal more, but could not even reply. The school-teacher had the modesty an.d discretion to retire from her side, just as he expected he would. He knew that all in the room were looking at him. He had to admit it was a bit exhilarating. He did not forget his patronising way, however. “How pretty you are to-night!” he said. “ Am I P” she said, blushing again. “ Wonderfully ! ” he answered, hardly knowing whether his own admiration was mock, as he wanted it to be, or honest. “Do I look like girls in the East when they go to dances P” she asked him. “Just exactly, although much prettier,” he replied. He noticed that he was beginning to be overgallant in the good old army way. He concluded that he would dance with her. “ What,” said he, “in ail this world would you rather have me do this evening than anything else?” he asked her. “ Will you do it ?” she asked in turn, but with a strong’ earnestness. “I solemnly promise,” he answered, laughingly. “ Then take me and dance with me and talk to me just as if I was a live lady in the East, and as if this was a great ball, with everything just as nice as it could be, and as if I was a—was a girl that you 1-1-liked,” she said. He did it. It seemed like a challenge, and he was a gallant. It was a great temptation, he felt the intoxication of her beauty, and he was human. H e danced with her; he paid her compliments by the score until she was ecstatic; he talked to her just as he would if she had been a countess, and she was delighted. He monopolised her until the little school-teacher went off home pale with rage and mortification, and other men began to wonder if the lieutenant had fallen in love with old Whittimore’s daughter, and the women became as envious as women can become, which is a great deal. He meant not a word of it, but he was soon talking of his love for her. Pretended sincerity at love-making was a trick he had learned to perfection at West Point. He took her out into the moonlight and talked about being as true as the stars are to the sun. He told her that even the trees and the mountains and the flowers were in love with her and jealous of him. He told her that the bubbling Popo-Agie was singing her a serenade. He enjoyed it a great deal. It was more than enjoyment to tier.

He walked koine with her, too, when the affair was oyer. The road seemed never before so short to her, and never before so long 1 to him, for he was beginning to tire of the flirtation. Besides that, it reminded him of the delightful times tue fellows in the artillery and the engineers, stationed in the East and near the great cities, were having all the time, while he and all the rest of the cavalry fellows were doing all the real work of the array, and it is

not well for a cavalry man to brood on these subjects. So they were very silent until they reached the shadow of the Whittiraore house. Then he said, “ Good-night,” and started to leave. To his surprise as 'he did so, he found her arms outstretched to him and her face held up to his own. As I have said before, he was human. Moreover, he was a cavalry lieutenant. He kissed her.

“ Good-night,” he said again, this time a little more tenderly. “ When will you come to-morrow ?” she asked him. He was a little startled. The tone of her voice told him that, as he had feared, the affair had gone a little too far. However, it was not possible, he thought, that she could have taken him seriously. It was embarrassing. The old contrariness came over him again. “ I think I’ll take a ride down the river to-morrow,” he answered, coldly. “ And not come to see me at all P” she continued.

“ Not to-morrow ; perhaps some other day,” he answered, lightly, “ Bat yon said yon con Id not live an hour without me,” she said, tremulously. “ Oh, well, Nellie,” he replied, “ that was only in fun. Of course you must not believe everything that I have told you. I was only in fun. Good-night.” He turned on his heel, and walked away in the direction of his camp.

Old Whifctimore did not care for society. He remained in his house this night, and went to sleep very early. He knew that Nellie would turn up all right, for she was quite able to take care of herself. He was awakened several times during the night by the shooting of the cowboys, who celebrated the last dance of the first ball in the Popo-Agie Valley by unnecessarily expending ammunition. It seemed to him that there was one shot rather close to his house, though, and if there had been another, he would have dressed and gone out and given the boys a piece of his mind. But it was not repeated

He ai’ose rather early the next morning and went to look after the horses. He turned the corner of the log house, and uttered an exclamation of horror. Before him on the ground lay his daughter —dead. She was still clad in the white muslin dress. Her revolver was clasped in her white hand, and on the bosom of her dress, just over the heart, there was a bright red circle. It was wet. It was blood. Lieutenant Hardy never repeated the story of the flirtation for the edification of young ladies in the Bast, or any one else.