Together | Page 9

there to that Iowa
prairie after the War. You say he left his widow badly off?"
The Colonel nodded, and added with pride, "But John has made that
right now."
The Senator, who had settled in Indianapolis and practised railroad law
until his clients had elevated him to the Senate, considered
complacently the various dispensations of Providence towards men. He
said generously:--
"Well, Tyringham's son has good blood, and it will tell. He will make
his way. We'll see to that, eh, Beals?" and the Senator sauntered over to
a livelier group dominated by Cornelia Pallanton's waving black
plumes.
"Oh, marriage!" Conny chaffed, "it's the easiest thing a woman can do,
isn't it? Why should one be in a hurry when it's so hard to go back?"
"Matrimony," Fosdick remarked, "is an experiment where nobody's
experience counts but your own." He had been torn from the
punch-bowl and thus returned to his previous train of thought.
"Is that why some repeat it so often?" Elsie Beals inquired. She had
broken her engagement the previous winter and had spent the summer
hunting with Indian guides among the Canadian Rockies. She regarded

herself as unusual, and turned sympathetically to Fosdick, who also had
a reputation for being odd.
"So let us eat and be merry," that young man said, seizing a pate and
glass of champagne, "though I never could see why good people should
make such an unholy rumpus when two poor souls decide to attempt
the great experiment of converting illusion into reality."
"Some succeed," an earnest young man suggested.
Conny, who had turned from the constant Woodyard to the voluble fat
man, who might be a Somebody, remarked:--
"I suppose you don't see the puddles when you are in their condition.
It's always the belief that we are going to escape 'em that drives us all
into your arms."
"What I object to," Fosdick persisted, feeding himself prodigiously, "is
not the fact, but this savage glee over it. It's as though a lot of caged
animals set up a howl of delight every time the cage door was opened
and a new pair was introduced into the pen. They ought to perform the
wedding ceremony in sackcloth and ashes, after duly fasting,
accompanied by a few faithful friends garbed in black with torches."
Conny gave him a cold, surface smile, setting down his talk as "young"
and beamed at the approaching Senator.
"Oh, what an idea!" giggled a little woman. "If you can't dance at your
own wedding, you may never have another chance."
Conny, though intent upon the Senator, kept an eye upon Woodyard,
introducing him to the distinguished man, thinking, no doubt, that the
Chairman of the A. and P. Board might be useful to the young lawyer.
For whatever she might be to women, this large blond creature with
white neck, voluptuous lips, and slow gaze from childlike eyes had the
power of drawing males to her, a power despised and also envied by
women. Those simple eyes seemed always to seek information about
obvious matters. But behind the eyes Conny was thinking, 'It's rather

queer, this crowd. And these Prices with all their money might do so
much better. That Fosdick is a silly fellow. The Senator is worn of
course, but still important!' And yet Conny, with all her sureness, did
not know all her own mental processes. For she, too, was really looking
for a mate, weighing, estimating men to that end, and some day she
would come to a conclusion,--would take a man, Woodyard or another,
giving him her very handsome person, and her intelligence, in
exchange for certain definite powers of brain and will.
The bride and groom entered the tent at last. Isabelle, in a renewed
glow of triumph, stepped over to the table and with her husband's
assistance plunged a knife into the huge cake, while her health was
being drunk with cheers. As she firmly cut out a tiny piece, she
exposed a thin but beautifully moulded arm.
"Handsome girl," the Senator murmured in Conny's ear. "Must be some
sore hearts here to-day. I don't see how such a beauty could escape until
she was twenty-six. But girls want their fling these days, same as the
men!"
"Toast! Toast the bride!" came voices from all sides, while the waiters
hurried here and there slopping the wine into empty glasses.
As the bride left the tent to get ready for departure, she caught sight of
Margaret Lawton in a corner of the veranda with Hollenby, who was
bending towards her, his eyes fastened on her face. Margaret was
looking far away, across the fields to where Dog Mountain rose in the
summer haze. Was Margaret deciding her fate at this
moment,--attracted, repulsed, waiting for the deciding thrill, while her
eyes searched