sat as hostess, calmly
beautiful, and governing the course of the dinner without the least
hesitancy or confusion.

She looked out for every guest's needs and directed the two Mexican boys
and Ming in their service with all the calmness and judgment of a
hostess who was long used to dinner parties. Indeed, Sue Latrop was
forced to admit in her secret soul that she had never seen any hostess
manage better at an entertainment of this kind.

At the upper end of the table, the old Captain fairly beamed his
hospitality and delight. He kept the boys in a gale of laughter, and the
girls seemed all to enjoy themselves, too. Critical Miss Latrop could
throw no wet blanket upon the proceedings; to tell the truth, her sour
face was quite overlooked by the other guests, and about all the
attention she attracted was when Mrs. Bill Edwards asked her if she had
the toothache.

"No, I have no toothache!" snapped Sue. "I don't see why you should
ask."

"Well, my dear," said the lady, soothingly, "something must surely be
the matter. I never saw a person at dinner with so miserable a
countenance. Does something pinch you?"

Yes! it was Sue's vanity pinching her, if the truth were known. Her
diatribes about Frances and the old Captain were not to be easily
forgotten by the girl from Boston. Not so much was she smitten because
of her unkindness; but she felt that she had played the fool!

Her friends from Amarillo must be quietly laughing in secret over what
Sue had said regarding the uncouthness of the Captain and the lack of
breeding of the "Cattle Queen." Sue felt that she had laid herself open
to ridicule, and it did hurt Sue Latrop to think that her young friends
were laughing at her.

As for the dinner, that was a revelation to the girl from Boston. The
service, if a bit odd, was very good. And the silver, cut glass, napery,
and all were as rich as Sue had ever seen.

After the dinner, and the other guests began to arrive, and the band
struck up behind the palms in the inner court of the _hacienda_,
Sue continued to be surprised, though she failed to admit it to her
friends.

It was true the boys came up from the bunk-house without evening dress.
But their black clothes were clean and well brushed, and those who wore
the usual kerchief about their necks sported silk ones and carried their
bullion-loaded sombreros in their hands.

And they could all dance. Sue refused the first few dances and tried to
sit and look on in