“O dear, how should I know?” she demanded with seeming indignation.
“There, I told you she knew,” declared the Sport, who at that moment joined the group. “Her face betrays her! And then she is on the committee.”
Nathalie turned and flashed at Edith angrily, “Well, if I do know I am not going to tell. If you want any information go and ask Mrs. Morrow.” Then feeling that things were growing desperate and that she might reveal what she had striven so hard to keep a secret, she broke from her tormentors and hurried into the hall.
Seeing Helen at that moment she dashed up to her, and grabbing her by the arm cried, “Helen, the girls are tormenting me to tell them about the lawn party; oh, do keep them from asking me again, for I am in mortal terror that I may tell something that should not be told just yet.”
“All right,” soothed her friend, “don’t you bother about the girls finding out, I’ll see to them. But here’s Fred, he wants you to vote. By the way, have you heard that the Sport’s Stunt has so far the greatest number of votes, and—”
But Helen had been carried off by one of the Scouts, and Nathalie turned to find Fred at her side eagerly demanding her vote.
“Why don’t you vote for ‘The First American Wash-Day’?” demanded the young man as he saw Nathalie hesitate and swing her pencil, lost in abstraction. “It will win, I think, and it was a good Stunt, too; well acted out. Edith deserves credit.”
“Do you think so?” flashed Nathalie. She colored angrily. “I do not agree with you. I think—” She stopped, compressed her lips, and then added coolly, “I shall vote for Helen, for I consider her Stunt the best one of the evening.” She wrote the name of the Stunt hurriedly, signed her name, and then handed the card to Fred, who was regarding her with a puzzled expression on his face.
He took the card and turned to go, but seeing that the floor had been cleared for dancing he stopped, and swinging about asked Nathalie if he could have the next dance. Nathalie assented, although she did not feel in the mood for dancing just at that moment.
“You won’t mind waiting a moment, will you?” asked Fred. “I have got to turn in my cards. Then I see this is a square dance, and I want a waltz with you. Are you angry with me?” he asked wonderingly as he saw that Nathalie’s eyes still gleamed fire and that her cheeks were bright red.