Tom frowned when beautiful Thea came in looking so charming in her white mull and blue sash, with a string of white wax beads around her bare, white neck, her exquisitely molded arms guiltless of all adornment, save the narrow lace that edged the short sleeves. He devoted himself assiduously to the other girls, and did not speak to Thea the whole evening, a spiteful procedure which was copied by his sister, so that by and by it began to be whispered among the guests that “all the Hintons seemed to be mad with Thea West.”
Thea did not seem to mind it in the least. She was as gay as usual, perhaps more so. She danced all the time and she talked incessantly. Her blue eyes sparkled, her pink cheek glowed with excitement. She flirted this time if never before, and she had a little group of admirers about her all the time. Her one thought was to spite Emmie Hinton for her unkindness, and when Charley McVey joined the group about her she threw him some of her sweetest smiles and glances.
“Just to punish Emmie,” she said to herself. “Not the equal of the Hintons, indeed! I’ll show her whether Charley thinks so or not.”
She knew very well that Charley had been longing to desert Emmie’s standard and come over to hers for a week past, but for Emmie’s sake she had held him at arm’s-length.
But now Thea was struggling with a hot and bitter resentment against the girl she had heretofore loved so dearly. Emmie had wounded her cruelly, and the impetuous girl vowed to herself that she would pay her back.
So it was that Emmie saw with alarmed eyes her beloved join the train of Thea’s admirers. She saw him dance with Thea three times, and when they went into supper Thea was hanging on his arm.
In a perfect fury of secret anger and jealousy, Emmie managed to get quite near them at the table. She was wild to hear what they were talking about.
“Thea will be making up some dreadful story about me, of course,” she thought, for, having entertained the young man on the way to the dance with a recital of Thea’s shortcomings, she supposed the girl would retaliate on the first opportunity.
But she was mistaken. Thea was only looking pretty and interested, and stuffing her rosy mouth with goodies, which she seemed to enjoy like a child. It was fickle, faithless Charley who was doing the talking—telling Thea all about the base-ball game, and even offering to take her to the next one.
Naughty Thea! She knew quite well that Emmie was very close, and that she was eagerly “swallowing every word,” as she said to herself, and there was no need of raising her voice ever so slightly; but she did, so that several others beside Emmie heard the sweet girlish voice reply: