“Well, Sally Dows, YOU here! who'd have thought of seeing you to-day? Why, Chet Brooks allowed that you danced every set last night and didn't get home till daylight. And you—you that are going to show up at another party to-night too! Well, I reckon I haven't got that much ambition these times. And out with your new bonnet too.”
There was a slight curl of her handsome lip as she looked at her cousin. She was certainly a more beautiful girl than Miss Sally; very tall, dark and luminous of eye, with a brunette pallor of complexion, suggesting, it was said, that remote mixture of blood which was one of the unproven counts of Miss Miranda's indictment against her family. Miss Sally smiled sweetly behind her big bow. “If you reckon to tie to everything that Chet Brooks says, you'll want lots of string, and you won't be safe then. You ought to have heard him run on about this one, and that one, and that other one, not an hour ago in our parlor. I had to pack him off, saying he was even making Judy's niggers tired.” She stopped and added with polite languor, “I suppose there's no news up at yo' house either? Everything's going on as usual—and—you get yo' California draft regularly?”
A good deal of the white of Julia's beautiful eyes showed as she turned indignantly on the speaker. “I wish, cousin Sally, you'd just let up talking to me about that money. You know as well as I do that I allowed to maw I wouldn't take a cent of it from the first! I might have had all the gowns and bonnets”—with a look at Miss Sally's bows—“I wanted from her; she even offered to take me to St. Louis for a rig-out—if I'd been willing to take blood money. But I'd rather stick to this old sleazy mou'nin' for Tom”—she gave a dramatic pluck at her faded black skirt—“than flaunt round in white muslins and China silks at ten dollars a yard, paid for by his murderer.”
“You know black's yo' color always,—taking in your height and complexion, Jule,” said Miss Sally demurely, yet not without a feminine consciousness that it really did set off her cousin's graceful figure to perfection. “But you can't keep up this gait always. You know some day you might come upon this Mr. Corbin.”
“He'd better not cross my path,” she said passionately.
“I've heard girls talk like that about a man and then get just green and yellow after him,” said Miss Sally critically. “But goodness me! speaking of meeting people reminds me I clean forgot to stop at the stage office and see about bringing over the new overseer. Lucky I met you, Jule! Good-by, dear. Come in to-night, and we'll all go to the party together.” And with a little nod she ran off before her indignant cousin could frame a suitably crushing reply to her Parthian insinuation.
But at the stage office Miss Sally only wrote a few lines on a card, put it in an envelope, which she addressed to Mr. Joseph Corbin, and then seating herself with easy carelessness on a long packing-box, languidly summoned the proprietor.
“You're always on hand yourself at Kirby station when the kyars come in to bring passengers to Pineville, Mr. Sledge?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Yo' haven't brought any strangers over lately?”