Moran of the Lady Letty | Page 3

Illinois
Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each date you
prepare (or were legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU
DON'T HAVE TO?
The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning
machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright
licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money
should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois Benedictine

College".
This "Small Print!" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney Internet
([email protected]); TEL: (212-254-5093) *END*THE
SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
MORAN OF THE LADY LETTY by Frank Norris

DEDICATED TO Captain Joseph Hodgson UNITED STATES LIFE
SAVING SERVICE

I
SHANGHAIED
This is to be a story of a battle, at least one murder, and several sudden
deaths. For that reason it begins with a pink tea and among the mingled
odors of many delicate perfumes and the hale, frank smell of Caroline
Testout roses.
There had been a great number of debutantes "coming out" that season
in San Francisco by means of afternoon teas, pink, lavender, and
otherwise. This particular tea was intended to celebrate the fact that
Josie Herrick had arrived at that time of her life when she was to wear
her hair high and her gowns long, and to have a "day" of her own quite
distinct from that of her mother.
Ross Wilbur presented himself at the Herrick house on Pacific Avenue
much too early upon the afternoon of Miss Herrick's tea. As he made,
his way up the canvased stairs he was aware of a terrifying array of
millinery and a disquieting staccato chatter of feminine voices in the
parlors and reception-rooms on either side of the hallway. A single high
hat in the room that had been set apart for the men's use confirmed him
in his suspicions.
"Might have known it would be a hen party till six, anyhow," he
muttered, swinging out of his overcoat. "Bet I don't know one girl in
twenty down there now--all mamma's friends at this hour, and papa's
maiden sisters, and Jo's school-teachers and governesses and
music-teachers, and I don't know what all."

When he went down he found it precisely as he expected. He went up
to Miss Herrick, where she stood receiving with her mother and two of
the other girls, and allowed them to chaff him on his forlornness.
"Maybe I seem at my ease," said Ross Wilbur to them, "but really I am
very much frightened. I'm going to run away as soon as it is decently
possible, even before, unless you feed me."
"I believe you had luncheon not two hours ago," said Miss Herrick.
"Come along, though, and I'll give you some chocolate, and perhaps, if
you're good, a stuffed olive. I got them just because I knew you liked
them. I ought to stay here and receive, so I can't look after you for
long."
The two fought their way through the crowded rooms to the
luncheon-table, and Miss Herrick got Wilbur his chocolate and his
stuffed olives. They sat down and talked in a window recess for a
moment, Wilbur toeing-in in absurd fashion as he tried to make a lap
for his plate.
"I thought," said Miss Herrick, "that you were going on the Ridgeways'
yachting party this afternoon. Mrs. Ridgeway said she was counting on
you. They are going out with the 'Petrel.'"
"She didn't count above a hundred, though," answered Wilbur. "I got
your bid first, so I regretted the yachting party; and I guess I'd have
regretted it anyhow," and he grinned at her over his cup.
"Nice man," she said--adding on the instant, "I must go now, Ross."
"Wait till I eat the sugar out of my cup," complained Wilbur. "Tell me,"
he added, scraping vigorously at the bottom of the cup with the
inadequate spoon; "tell me, you're going to the hoe-down to-night?"
"If you mean the Assembly, yes, I am."
"Will you give me the first and last?"
"I'll give you the first, and you can ask for the last then."
"Let's put it down; I know you'll forget it." Wilbur drew a couple of
cards from his case.
"Programmes are not good form any more," said Miss Herrick.
"Forgetting a dance is worse."
He made out the cards, writing on the one he kept for himself, "First
waltz--Jo."
"I must go back now," said Miss Herrick, getting up.
"In that case I shall run--I'm afraid of girls."

"It's a pity about you."
"I am; one girl, I don't say, but girl in the aggregate like this," and he
pointed his chin toward the thronged parlors. "It un-mans me."
"Good-by, then."
"Good-by, until to-night, about--?"
"About nine."
"About nine, then."
Ross Wilbur made his adieu