Judith stood demurely between Judge Middleton and Major Fitch and made her bow to Ryeville society. They had asked Mrs. Buck to stand by her daughter, but that lady begged to be excused.
“I’m just a private person,” she said, “and it would flustrate me so I’d be sure to have one of my attacks.”
Everybody went up and shook hands with the guest of honor—even Mildred Bucknor, although she did not enjoy it at all.
“It is the silliest thing I ever saw in my life,” she declared. “As though that Judith Buck wasn’t forward enough as it is, without those 170 ridiculous old men forcing her on people this way. If we had known the party was given to her, we never should have come, but now that we are here we naturally must behave as gentle folk and be decent.”
“Of course,” echoed Nan. “We couldn’t leave just as supper is announced either. That would be impolite.”
“Very!” said the fat boy.
The knowledge that the debut party was given to little Judith Buck in no way served to throw a damper on the festivities. On the contrary, the gaiety of the guests increased. Supper was a decided success and the stylish waiters from Louisville saw to it that everyone was served bountifully. Old Billy crept from behind the decorations and insisted upon waiting on his mistress.
“She am the queen er the ball,” he said arrogantly to the young darkey who objected to giving up his tray to the old man.
“You mean the young lady who’s havin’ her comin’ out?”
“No, I don’t mean her, but my Miss Ann, who air a settin’ over yonder all kivered with di’ments.”