It was a momentous question to decide, though it seemed easy enough when Ben was there and she was drawn to him by the attraction of his super-abundant vitality.
No, she would not go to the baile. She remained obdurate under Mrs. Gallagher's final plea, and was proof against the alluring strains of a Spanish waltz which the musicians played as they marched through the plaza to notify Las Rubertas that the ball was about to open.
So Mrs. Gallagher, with her black braids freshly oiled and redolent of bergamot, took her departure, to return almost immediately with the news that Ben Evans and Edith Blakely were riding in to attend the baile.
"Perhaps you go, now," and she looked at Nan keenly.
Nan did her best to reply indifferently:
"Oh, are they? No, I don't think I shall go."
Why had Ben not sent her word that he was coming to the dance, and why had he not asked her?
There was no mistaking the nature of the pang she felt, it was too sharp and as astonish-
