"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"
"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."
Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly alert.
"Who, pray, is Kilday?"
"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he interferes he'll hear from me."
"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.
"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete, and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you know—an Irish peddler; came
here three or four years ago with a pack on his back."
"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with horror.
Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I told you he was drinking."