that I groaned a hundred times in my jealousy. Because, manifestly,
Sally did not intend to run any risk of my not seeing her in her glory,
no matter where my eyes looked.

A couple of times in promenading I passed her on the arm of some proud
cowboy or gallant young buck from town, and on these occasions she
favored her escort with a languishing glance that probably did as much
damage to him as to me.

Presently she caught me red-handed in my careless, sauntering pursuit of
her, and then, whether by intent or from indifference, she apparently
deigned me no more notice. But, quick to feel a difference in her, I
marked that from that moment her gaiety gradually merged into
coquettishness, and soon into flirtation.

Then, just to see how far she would go, perhaps desperately hoping she
would make me hate her, I followed her shamelessly from patio to parlor,
porch to court, even to the waltz.

To her credit, she always weakened when some young fellow got her in a
corner and tried to push the flirting to extremes. Young Waters was the
only one lucky enough to kiss her, and there was more of strength in his
conquest of her than any decent fellow could be proud of.

When George Wright sought Sally out there was added to my jealousy a
real anxiety. I had brushed against Wright more than once that evening.
He was not drunk, yet under the influence of liquor.

Sally, however, evidently did not discover that, because, knowing her
abhorrence of drink, I believed she would not have walked out with him