easy. She had met him only
once since their quarrel, and had meant to bow to him politely, but
with dignity, to show that she bore no malice; but he had
ostentatiously avoided her glance. If he chose to be ill-natured, she
had thought, and preferred her enmity to her friendship, her
conscience was at least clear. She had been willing to forget his
rudeness and be a friend to him. She could have been his true friend,
if nothing more; and he would need friends, unless he changed a great
deal.
When her mental atmosphere was cleared by the fading of her dream, Ben
assumed larger proportions. Perhaps he had had cause for complaint; at
least it was only just to admit that he thought so. Nor had he
suffered in her estimation by his display of spirit in not waiting to
be jilted but in forcing her hand before she was quite ready to play
it. She could scarcely expect him to attend her to the ball; but he
was among the subscribers, and could hardly avoid meeting her, or
dancing with her, without pointed rudeness. If he did not ask her to
dance, then either the Virginia reel, or the lancers, or quadrilles,
would surely bring them together; and though Graciella sighed, she did
not despair. She could, of course, allay his jealousy at once by
telling him of her Aunt Laura's engagement, but this was not yet
practicable. She must find some other way of placating him.
Ben Dudley also had a problem to face in reference to the ball--a
problem which has troubled impecunious youth since balls were
invented--the problem of clothes. He was not obliged to go to the
ball. Graciella's outrageous conduct relieved him of any obligation to
invite her, and there was no other woman with whom he would have cared
to go, or who would have cared, so far as he knew, to go with him. For
he was not a lady's man, and but for his distant relationship would
probably never have gone to the Treadwells'. He was looked upon by
young women as slow, and he knew that Graciella had often been
impatient at his lack of sprightliness. He could pay his subscription,
which was really a sort of gentility tax, the failure to meet which
would merely forfeit future invitations, and remain at home. He did
not own a dress suit, nor had he the money to spare for one. He, or
they, for he and his uncle were one in such matters, were in debt
already, up to the limit of their credit, and he had sold the last
bale of old cotton to pay the last month's expenses, while the new
crop,
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