CHAPTER X. The Boxing Match and Afterward.
Daisy stood before her mirror, "fixing" her hair. Whether it was Daisy's native knack of coiffure, or whether it was that her hair was of that wavy kind which "fixes" becomingly almost by itself, she secured the effect she wanted without much trouble. The dark-blue dress she had bought with fifteen dollars borrowed from Jean, and to which she had pinned a lace collar, set off her neck well. She made a little face at herself in the looking-glass and turned about, just in time to face Jean, who had entered quietly, shutting the door behind her.
"What like o' company is yon ye're keepin', lassie?" Jean, as she spoke, sat down on the edge of the bed, spreading out her strong digits over her knees in a masculine attitude.
"What company?" said Daisy, a little puzzled. She had made no mention of her party to Jean.
"Yon two bidin' down in the kitchen the now," Jean replied, regarding Daisy in a slow speculative way, as though searching for some characteristic she had perchance overlooked in forming her estimate of the girl; "a mon wha's breath smells of thae lozenges, and a thick-legged wench that rolls her eyes aboot. They askit for you, by your ain name, too. Did ye tell them to ca', or," Jean's tone grew sternly hopeful, "shall I send them packin'?"
"I guess it's me they want," said Daisy, recognizing Masterman in Jean's description of the man. Then she added, meeting the elder woman's glance challengingly, "I'm going to a boxing-match, and to a—a little party—afterwards, with Nick Cluett the fighter."
Somewhat to Daisy's surprise, Jean seemed to look less severe as she heard the host of the "little party" named.
"Well," she said, after a moment, "I was just twa minds about lockin' ye in, lassie, and sending they people aboot their business; but if it's Nicky Cluett ye're gaun with, ye'll tak' no harm—that is, unless ye encourage him, an' then ye'll tak' no end o' harm, and it'll serve ye right. My cousin Jock Lauder—Baby Jock, they call him—kens Nick weel."
"Is Baby Jock your cousin?" said Daisy, "why, I had a dance with him last night, out at the park.
"Is that so, then?" Jean leaned forward with interest. "Jock's a fighter too, although he'd never let on, withoot ye speir him direct.... Well, gae along, then, to your pairty—but keep a sharp eye on yon person with the scentit breath. I'd no trust him as far as I could cast him."