“Well, now, as for cousins, they are far out, and we hain’t ever talked about them; but as for brothers or sisters, father or mother, that she hasn’t got, for she told me so. Her pa and Mr. Dan Overton they was partners once; and when the pa died he just left his child to the partner’s care; and he couldn’t have left her to a squarer man.”
“That’s what report says of him,” conceded the stranger, watching her with guarded attention. “Then Mr. Overton’s partner hasn’t been dead long?”
“Oh, no—not very long; not long enough for the child to get used to talking of it to strangers, I guess; so we don’t ask her many questions about it. But it troubles her yet, I know.”
“Of course—of course; such a pretty little girl, too.”
Then the two fell into quite a pleasant chat, and it was not until he moved away from beside her, to make room for the doctor’s wife, that Mrs. Huzzard observed that one arm hung limply beside him, and that one leg dragged a little as he walked. He was a man who bore paralysis with him. 111
She thought, while he was talking to her, that he looked like a man who had seen trouble. A weary, drawn look was about his eyes. She had seen dissipated men who looked like that; yet this stranger seemed in no ways a man of that sort. He was so quiet and polite; and when she saw the almost useless limbs, she thought she knew then what that look in his face meant.
But there were too many people about for her to study one very particularly, so she lost sight of the stranger, Harris, and did not observe that he had moved near the door of the sitting room, or that the door was open.
But it was; and just inside of it Lyster stood watching, with a certain vexation, a game of cards played there. The doctor had withdrawn, and was looking with amusement at the two players—’Tana and Captain Leek. The captain was getting the worst of it. His scattered whiskers fairly bristled with perplexity and irritation. Several times he displayed bad judgment in drawing and discarding, because of his nervous annoyance, while she seemed surprisingly skillful or lucky, and was not at all disturbed by her opponent’s moods. She looked smilingly straight into his eyes, and when she exhibited the last winning hand, and the captain dashed his hand angrily into the pack, she waited for one civil second and then swept the stakes toward her.
“What! Don’t you want to play any more, captain?” she asked, maliciously. “I would really like to have another dance, yet if you want revenge—”
“Go and dance by all means,” he said, testily. “When I want another game of poker, I’ll let you know, but I must say I do not approve of such pastime for young ladies.” 112