"What did you tell them?"
"Mother, what would I tell them? I don't want to marry any of them."
"I hope you didn't hurt their feelings."
"I refused as nicely as I could."
Emma looked down at the table, gratified. Barbara was no longer the half-child half-woman who had left Missouri. The Oregon Trail had given her a new maturity and poise. Barbara finished her meal and folded her hands thoughtfully under her chin. She stared across the table and for a moment she did not speak. Then,
"Mother, there's a dance tonight in the mess hall. May I go?"
"Do you mean you can single out just one escort?"
"Hugo asked me," she said dreamily. "He—he's so different. I—I just can't explain it. He simply makes the others seem like children. His home is in New York City, and it will take me at least a year to tell you all the things he's told me about it."
Emma murmured, "Hugo must talk fast."
"He does, Mother!" she said eagerly, missing entirely the double meaning in Emma's remark. "He's the most interesting young man I've ever met!"