Willits's lip curled. “I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct, although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card, Miss Kate,” and he caught it from her unresisting hand. “There—what did I tell you!” This came with a flare of indignation. “It was a blank when I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!” Here he faced Harry. “That's your handwriting—I'll leave it to you, Mr. Temple, if it isn't his handwriting.”
Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm—she had read Harry's face and knew what was behind it.
“Take that back, Langdon—quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't say things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate asked me to. Take it back, sir—NOW!—and then make an humble apology to Miss Seymour.
“I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here—take her—and take this with her!” and he tore Kate's card in half and threw the pieces in his host's face.
With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as if to strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full height and confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color gone from her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly, was what puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole room on the dispute.
St. George, who was boiling with indignation and disgust, but still cool and himself, pushed his way into the middle of the group.
“Not a word, Harry,” he whispered in low, frigid tones. “This can be settled in another way.” Then in his kindest voice, so loud that all could hear—“Teackle, will you and Mr. Willits please meet me in the colonel's den—that, perhaps, is the best place after all to straighten out these tangles. I'll join you there as soon as I have Miss Kate safely settled.” He bent over her: “Kate, dear, perhaps you had better sit alongside of Mrs. Rutter until I can get these young fellows cooled off”—and in a still lower key—“you behaved admirably, my girl—admirably. I'm proud of you. Mr. Willits has had too much to drink—that is what is the matter with him, but it will be all over in a minute—and, Harry, my boy, suppose you help me look up Teackle,” and he laid his hand with an authoritative pressure on the boy's arm.
The colonel had by this time reached the group and stood trying to catch the cue. He had heard the closing sentence of St. George's instructions, but he had missed the provocation, although he had seen Harry's uplifted fist.
“What's the matter, St. George?” he inquired nervously.
“Just a little misunderstanding, Talbot, as to who was to dance with our precious Kate,” St. George answered with a laugh, as he gripped Harry's arm the tighter. “She is such a darling that it is as much as I can do to keep these young Romeos from running each other through the body, they are so madly in love with her. I am thinking of making off with her myself as the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll come back. Hold the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can straighten them all out,” and with his arm still tight through Harry's, the two walked the length of the room and closed the far door behind them.