ted to let them pass as, self-conscious and
stiffly erect, they walked the length of the office towards the dining
room. Figuratively speaking, Prouty stood on tip-toe to see what sort of
reception they would meet from the receiving line. It was tacitly
understood that lesser social lights would take their cue from them.

Of its kind, it was as thrilling a moment as Prouty had experienced.
Mrs. Myron Neifkins had recognized Kate immediately and passed the word
along to Mrs. Pantin who, although a comparative stranger, had been
properly supplied with information as to the community's undesirables.
"Mormon Joe's Kate," the daughter of the notorious Jezebel of the Sand
Coulee Roadhouse, naturally was included in the list.

Hugh, who had met these ladies previously and found them as amiable as
any one could wish--particularly Mrs. Pantin, who had regarded him as
somebody to cultivate because of his connection with the exclusive
Toomeys of the Scissor Ranch--now had something of the sensation of a
person who had stepped into the frigid atmosphere of a cold storage
plant.

Mrs. Pantin's eyes had all the warm friendliness of two blue china knobs
and her thin lips were closed until her mouth looked merely a vivid
scratch. Yet, somehow, the boy managed to say with his manner of
deferential courtesy:

"Mrs. Pantin, do you know Miss Prentice?"

Ordinarily, a part of Mrs. Pantin's society manner was a vivacious
chirp, but now she said coldly between her teeth:

"I haven't that pleasure." She gave Kate her extreme finger tips with
such obvious reluctance that the action was an affront.

Disston glanced at Mrs. Sudds in the hope of finding friendliness. That
lady had drawn herself up like an outraged tragedy queen. No one would
have dreamed, seeing Mrs. Sudds at the moment with her air of royal
hauteur, that in bygone days she had had her own troubles making twelve
dollars a week as a stenographer.

His glance passed on to Mrs. Neifkins, who was picking at a French knot
in a spasm of nervousness lest Kate betray the fact that they had met.

Disston was aware that Mrs. Neifkins knew Kate and his lip curled at her
cowardice. He raised his head haughtily; he would not subject his
partner to further rebuffs.

"Come on, Katie," he said, curtly, and they passed into the dining room.

The girl's cheeks were flaming as they sat down on the chairs ranged
against the wall.

"Hughie," her fingers were like ice as she clasped them