“A stickler for social forms, Larkin,” said the Judge petulantly, rising.
“I see,” said the Carpetbagger with amusement. “I’ll have to humour her. Wait for me. We must stop it.”
When at length the Judge returned and confronted Stella he was unnerved, while she stood staring at him with a hard glitter in her great brown eyes, complete mistress of every faculty she possessed.
“My child,” began Butler, “Larkin tells me that you have invited the Ku Klux raiders to dance here to-night.”
“I have,” was the cool answer.
“But my dear, you should have consulted me.”
“You made me the mistress of this house; why should I consult you about a harmless social gathering of my friends?”
“The Klan is a secret order of assassins and desperadoes.”
“Please father, don’t!” she interrupted. “Your politics disgust me. These boys are of the best families in town.”
“How can you know this?” pleaded the Judge. “They come disguised. Not one of them has ever made himself known.”