“Some five hundred, believe me!” said the third Carver Standish.
The scorn in his voice was born of petulance rather than of snobbishness, but no such kindly discrimination would be made by any sharp-eared guest of Mr. Benjamin Jarvis, and the Cinnamon Creek forest ranger lost no time.
“If I were you,” he said frankly but pleasantly to the amazed Carver Standish, “I’d be a bit more careful about what I said. You see, here in Wyoming it’s not considered good form to talk about your host and his guests. If they heard you, it mightn’t be comfortable. And, besides, it seems to me it would be better to dance with other folks. That’s why I came to ask you if you’d dance the next dance with me, Miss Winters.”
Carver and Vivian were too discomfited to be gracious. Like many persons more mature than they, they sought to cover embarrassment and to gain control of the situation by bad manners.
“I hardly think,” said Carver Standish III stiffly, 232 “that I need any coaching on behavior from you!”
And before the ranger had time to reply, had he contemplated such action, Vivian was ready with her self-defense.
“I rather guess New Englanders have about as good manners as Wyoming people,” she said scathingly, “at least judging from those I’ve seen!”
The reply of the Cinnamon Creek forest ranger was brief and to the point.
“I always thought so myself until to-night,” he said.
Then he bowed politely, procured a glass of cider for the waiting Miss Bumps, who was tatting during the interval, and quietly took his leave. But his words, angrily received though they had been, bore fruit, for Carver Standish III danced not only with Miss Martha Bumps but also with Mrs. Samuel Wilson who was twice his size; and Vivian, heartily ashamed of herself and seeking redemption in her own eyes, accepted the Biering cow boy without a show of an introduction, and danced with him three times during the evening, not to mention her hearty acceptance of Dick and Alec and Joe. 233