Jocelyn Brown, Grandma's grand-daughter, dancing frequently with
Charleton Falkner, was at twelve only slightly shorter than Little
Marion. She had the face of an angel, the vocabulary of a cowman, and was
built of steel.

Inez Rodman, very fair and slender, easily five feet nine, was scorned by
the older women but was brazenly popular with their husbands and the
younger set of boys and girls.

Judith danced all the time but only occasionally with Douglas, who took
her to task for her neglect.

"But, Doug, you and Dad are no novelty to dance with. What's the matter
with you anyhow? You never used to want to dance with me."

"I'm just trying to keep you from dancing with all these roughneck
riders." Douglas' chin was in the air above his bright blue silk neck
scarf.

Judith's eyes swept him appraisingly. His white silk shirt hung loose
on his thin, fine shoulders. His broad rider's belt, studded with blue
enameled rings, encircled a waist almost as slender as Jude's own. His
white duck trousers were turned up to display new riding boots, and his
spurs, a graduation gift, were of silver and chimed at his slightest
movement.

"You're almost as good-looking as Jimmy Day," she said with a sudden
chuckle. "Run along, Doug. You aren't old enough to protect me from these
bad men!" And she turned to dance with the waiting Jimmy.