CHAPTER XIII—A GAME FOR TWO
Frank and Bart were the only ones of the party who attended the dance, that evening, which was an informal affair.
Fine music was furnished, and the young ladies and girls of Santa Barbara looked their best as they mingled with the guests at the hotel.
As Frank stood looking on he decided that the girls of the Golden State were charming indeed, and there was no reason why California should not be proud of them.
They were refined and cultured, too, as they showed by their manners and conversation. In this respect Frank felt that they might well be compared with the finest bred girls of the East.
“It is a great country,” he thought; “and the East is altogether conceited when it fancies it has all the brains and culture. There are other places besides Boston and New York, and I can understand why some of the other places seem superior to many people.”
He was watching for Inza. She had promised him the first waltz, and he hoped to find time to chat a moment with her before the dance. He wished to compliment her on her brave attempt to rescue Effie Random.
While he was looking for her Miss Random entered the room, accompanied by her brother.
Lord Stanford, the Englishman, was present, and he started for Effie the moment she appeared.
But the girl saw Frank, and, leaving Wallace, she hastened toward him before the nobleman could reach her.
“Oh, Mr. Merriwell!” she exclaimed, with an ardor that surprised him, as she had seemed so cool and reserved, “I must thank you again and again for your heroic rescue of Inza.”
“Don’t,” entreated Merry. “I have been thanked enough already. Permit me to congratulate you on your fine appearance this evening. It is wonderful! I feared you would be prostrated, and here you are at this dance, looking as fair and fresh as a flower. I do not understand it.”
Her eyes fell.
“I—I came to see—you,” she almost whispered the words, and an added color tinged her fair cheeks.
Frank began to feel awkward. He could see Lord Stanford glowering at him from a short distance, and he wondered if this was the same girl he had fancied was so eager to capture the nobleman. It seemed that Effie had quite forgotten Stanford.
“To see me?” said Frank, slowly. “I am sure that is a compliment—a great compliment.”
“Yes, to see you,” she again declared, placing her hand upon his arm, and lifting her blue eyes to his. “I knew you would be here.”
At this moment Frank discovered that Inza had entered and was looking toward them. He longed to hurry to her side, but he could not leave Effie Random without positive rudeness.
“What is the matter, Mr. Merriwell?” said Effie, rather sharply. “You do not seem to be listening? I am talking to you!”
“I beg your pardon!” hastily replied Frank, blushing, when he realized how rude his manners must have seemed. “It’s one of my spells—that’s all.”
“Do you have them often?” she asked, with a light laugh.
“Oh, no; only occasionally. I am afraid they make me appear very rude. Physicians whom I have consulted say I may outgrow them by the time I am eighty or ninety, and that I shall not be troubled by them all the rest of my life after that.”
Lord Stanford came up.
“Pawdon,” he said; “but I think this is our dawnce, Miss Random.”
She looked at him, and then, as Frank was on the point of excusing himself, she said:
“Not this one, Lord Stanford. I said I would give you a waltz, but I am engaged to Mr. Merriwell for this one.”
Frank glanced at her in surprise. He had not asked her for that dance. What could she mean? Effie noted the glance and cast her eyes downward.
Like a flash the truth came over Frank. During their brief stay in Santa Barbara he had met Effie quite often with Inza. He had simply regarded her as a rather pretty and winning girl, and had paid her no more attention than was demanded by courtesy. Now it seemed——
He was compelled to smile. Was it possible the foolish girl imagined he was in love with her?
She must know of his sincere admiration for Inza.
Still, such is the weakness of human kind, he did not feel greatly offended at the discovery. Effie was attractive and——
Then it happened that, almost before Frank realized it, they were on the floor, gliding gracefully along to the swing and throb of the music.
Effie was a delightful waltzer, light as a feather and graceful as a swan. Ordinarily it would have cost Frank no effort at all with such a partner.
But this was not an ordinary occasion, and Merriwell felt no satisfaction in dancing, even though Effie was a perfect waltzer. He realized that he was doing wrong and he was decidedly wretched.
On the second round Frank and Effie came close to Inza. She was dancing with Bart Hodge. For a single moment Inza’s dark eyes looked at Merry, but they turned away, and she laughed at something Hodge was whispering in her ear.
Merriwell felt a flush of heat pass over his body, and his cheeks burned. He saw Hodge’s arm about Inza’s waist, and an intense feeling of jealousy seized upon him. He forgot that he was to blame and he railed at his friend.
Then he began to chat and laugh with Effie, seeming to forget Inza entirely. He entered into the dance with a sudden change of spirit, so that many eyes were turned toward himself and Miss Random, who were generally pronounced the finest waltzers on the floor.
Effie noted the sudden change in Frank, but she did not know what had brought it about. She was charmed by his witty sayings, his complimentary speeches, and his beautiful dancing.
“He is just splendid!” she told herself. “I don’t wonder Inza Burrage says he is the finest fellow in the whole world.”
She saw Lord Stanford, surrounded by a group of girls, all of whom seemed regarding the red-faced nobleman with great admiration.
“Yesterday I was like those silly fools!” thought Effie. “To-day I have found a real man. What a difference there is!”
She felt a positive disgust for the Englishman.
“Miss Burrage said I’d be sickened of him when I came to know him well. He is looking for an American heiress, and he tried to force her to marry him till he found out she is not rich. Then his ardor cooled swiftly. What a contemptible man he is.”
When the dance was over Frank and Effie strolled out on the balcony, where the soft breath of a perfect summer night brought them the sweet perfume of flowers.
The moon had arisen above the Santa Yenz Mountains, and its brilliant light was shimmering with silver the sea that lay away to the westward. The sound of the surf came like subdued and distant organ peals. The scene was entrancing, but it did not appeal to Frank.
He was ill at ease. He felt his guilt, and a great wave of shame and self-contempt swept over him.
With characteristic impulsiveness he suddenly resolved to put an end to it. To seek out Inza and apologize.
As he made the resolution a low, musical laugh came from the other side of a bank of flowers.
Then a deep voice followed. It was Inza and Bart.
“Miss Random,” he said, hurriedly, “will you kindly pardon me if I escort you back to the room? I—I—have an engagement and——”
Effie started and glanced at him with mingled surprise and pique. She, too, had heard the laugh. Her eyes flashed, and her lips compressed ominously.
“Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Merriwell,” she replied, coldly. “But may I ask if your extremely sudden engagement is connected with Inza?”
The impertinence of the question passed unheeded by Frank. His mind was engrossed by his new resolution.
“I confess it is,” he replied, frankly. “Pray excuse me.”
With that he was gone. Effie watched him disappear with eyes filled with tears of rage and humiliation. Gripping the railing of the balcony until her hands ached, she muttered:
“You will regret this, Frank Merriwell. You will regret this insult to me. I will find means to make you suffer for it.”
Bart Hodge strolled past the bank of flowers, and started on seeing her.
“You here,” he stammered, impulsively. “I thought you were dancing with Frank?”
Effie greeted him so cordially that the youth flushed with pleasure. He gladly stepped to her side in obedience to her invitation.
“Yes, I was dancing with Mr. Merriwell,” she replied, “but he had a pressing engagement and was compelled to leave. Where is Inza?”
“She returned inside,” said Bart, indifferently.
“And you permitted her to go alone?”
“Yes. I wanted to look for you,” was the blunt reply, given with a glance of admiration.
“A weapon ready for use,” murmured Effie, softly. “I will strike Frank Merriwell through him.”
In the meantime Frank had eagerly searched for Inza. To his extreme disappointment, he found that she had left for home. Five minutes later he, too, was missed.