“Not in this town you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there’s a terrible prejudice against—well, against me. And, besides, the places are all filled for the next year. The Wetherfords ain’t among the first circles any more.”
This daunted the girl more than she could express, but she bravely made advance. “But there must be other schools in the country.”
“There are—a few. But I reckon you better pull out and go back, at least, to Sulphur; they don’t know so much about me there, and, besides, they’re a little more like your kind.”
Lee Virginia remembered Gregg’s charge against her mother. “What do you mean by the prejudice against you?” she asked.
Lize was evasive. “Since I took to running this restaurant my old friends kind o’ fell off—but never mind that to-night. Tell me about things back East. I don’t s’pose I’ll ever get as far as Omaha again; I used to go with Ed every time I felt like it. He was good to me, your father. If ever there was a prince of a man, Ed Wetherford was him.”
The girl’s thought was now turned into other half-forgotten channels. “I wish you would tell me more about father. I don’t remember where he was buried.”
“Neither do I, child—I mean I don’t know exactly. You see, after that cattle-war, he went away to Texas.”
“I remember, but it’s all very dim.”