So the herds-grass purpled and was mown; the mustard yellowed, and its yellow vanished; and the apple began to redden. Then Demetrius, with a little help from everybody, gave a party—a party the like of which had not been given in the sleepy place since his sister's marriage a dozen years before; but this Chloris from afar, as Fidele had foretold, was inspiring the natives.
And undoubtedly she was the queen of the party. To see her was to know as much. She wore a grand gown of pale purplish silk, with a real lace bertha (the talk of the place for nine days after), and white flowers pricked into the shiny structure of her hair.
There was hired music, and dancing on the waxed kitchen-floor, and an opportunity never surpassed in the annals of the neighborhood to get enough of good things to eat.
Towards the end, when one-half the simple revellers were gone, and the musicians were silenced with feeding, and the night air breathed in at the open windows with a feel of great lateness in it, came a petition to Chloris to play a piece on the piano.
After various laughing negatives, yielding, Chloris, whose eyes were lightsome and dancing to-night, pushed away the stool, and, substituting for it a chair, sat a little sideways in this, with one arm over the back; and, a curious little smile playing on her lips, propped her ruffled head with its wilted flowers on her right hand; and, while the country innocents exchanged wondering glances, with her nimble left hand, amply sufficient to the task alone, began playing a waltz—a sweet, dreamy waltz.
When they were at last home, and Fidele, half undressed, had come in to chat a moment with her friend, she asked, "Did you enjoy yourself, dearie?"
"Immensely!" said Chloris. "How nice they all are to me! What dear, kind things they are! By the way, though, there was something I wanted to ask. Who is that dark-haired, plump young woman, with black bugle eyes, and a skin like red-and-white paper—quite passable-looking, if she did not look so sulky?"
"What did she wear?"
"Something pretentious but unbecoming. It had a lot of bead-trimming. Now, speaking of how nice every one and everything was, I except that girl's manner. She was positively rude. I did not know how to take it. I have met her before, with all the others, and passed her on the road, bowing my best; but we have never more than exchanged a word or two, so I can have done nothing to offend her."
Fidele was laughing.