" She was watching Belle Treherne promenading with her father. She
drew my attention to it by a slight motion of the hand, but why I could
not tell.
"But might not a man fall by the same rule of vanity?" I urged. "That he
shall appear well in their eyes, that their vanity in turn should be fed,
might he not commit a crime, and so bring misery?"
"Yes, it is true either way--pleasure or misery. Please come to the
saloon and get me an ice before the next dance."
I was perplexed. Was she altogether soulless? Even now, as we passed
among the dancers, she replied to congratulations on her make-up and
appearance with evident pleasure.
An hour later, I was taking Belle Treherne from the arm of Hungerford for
the last waltz, and, in reply to an inquiring glance from him, I shook my
head mournfully. His face showed solicitude as he walked away. Perhaps it
did not gratify my vanity that Belle Treherne, as her father limped
forward at the stroke of eight bells to take her below, said to me: "How
downright and thorough Mr. Hungerford is!" But I frankly admitted that he
was all she might say good of him, and more.
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