the fact that other young men would be sure to ask Alice for a dance,
and that more than one pretty creole lass was rightfully expecting a
giddy turn with the stalwart and handsome Lieutenant Beverley.

Rene de Ronville before long broke rudely into their selfish dream and
led Alice into the house. This reminded Beverley of his social duty,
wherefore seeing little Adrienne Bourcier he made a rush and secured
her at a swoop from the midst of a scrambling circle of mutually
hindered young men.

"Allons, ma petite!" he cried, quite in the gay tone of the occasion,
and swung her lightly along with him.

It was like an eagle dancing with a linnet, or a giant with a fairy,
when the big Lieutenant led out la petite Adrienne, as everybody called
her. The honor of Beverley's attention sat unappreciated on Adrienne's
mind, for all her thoughts went with her eyes toward Rene and Alice.
Nor was Beverley so absorbed in his partner's behalf that he ever for a
moment willingly lost sight of the floating buff gown, the shining
brown hair and the beautiful face, which formed, indeed, the center of
attraction for all eyes.

Father Beret was present, sharing heartily in the merriment of his
flock. Voices greeted him on all sides with intonations of tender
respect. The rudest man there was loyal to the kind-hearted priest, and
would as soon have thought of shooting him as of giving him any but the
most reverent attention. It is to be noted, however, that their
understanding of reverence included great freedom and levity not
especially ecclesiastical in its nature. Father Beret understood the
conditions around him and had the genius to know what not to hear, what
not to see; but he never failed when a good word or a fatherly touch
with his hand seemed worth trying on a sheep that appeared to be
straying dangerously far from the fold. Upon an occasion like this
dance at the river house, he was no less the faithful priest because of
his genial sympathy with the happiness of the young people who looked
to him for spiritual guidance.

It was some time before Beverley could again secure Alice for a dance,
and he found it annoying him atrociously to see her smile sweetly on
some buckskin-clad lout who looked like an Indian and danced like a
Parisian. He did not greatly enjoy most of his partners; they could not
appeal to any side of his nature just then. Not that he at all times
stood too much on his aristocratic traditions, or lacked the v