Miss Dividends Part 2

"Excuse me," interposes Lawrence gallantly. "That was before I had spoken to Mrs. Livingston."

This happy shot makes the widow his friend at once. She says: "Not spoken to a beautiful woman for eight months! Surely there could be no beautiful women about," and her eyes emphasize her words as she looks with admiration on the athletic symmetry the young Western man displays under his broadcloth evening dress.

"Not spoken to a beautiful woman for eight months!" This is an astonished echo from the two young ladies.

"Yes," replies Southmead laughing. "He has been in southern Utah. He only stopped over night in Salt Lake City on his trip to New York; he comes from the wilds of the Rocky Mountains."

"The Rocky Mountains?" cries Erma, whose eyes seem to take sudden interest at the locality mentioned.

A moment after, Mrs. Livingston hastily presents the Western engineer.

"Miss Amory--Miss Travenion: Captain Lawrence."

"Not heard the voice of beauty for eight months? That is severe for a military man, Captain Lawrence," laughs Miss Amory, her eyes growing bright, for she is in the habit of going to West Point, to graduating exercises, and loving cadets and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons generally and awfully.

"I was once Captain of an Iowa battery," answers Harry; "for some years after that I was a civil engineer on the Union Pacific Railway, and for the last three I have been a mining engineer in Utah."

"On the Union Pacific Railway," says Miss Travenion, her eyes growing more interested. "Then perhaps you know my father. Won't you sit beside me? I should like to ask you a few questions. But let me present Mr.

Oliver Ogden Livingston, Captain Lawrence." She introduces in the easy manner of one accustomed to society the Westerner to a gentleman who has arisen from beside her.

This being remarks, "Awh! delighted," with a slight English affectation of manner, which in 1871 was very uncommon in America, and reseats himself beside Miss Travenion.

"There is another chair on my other hand," says the young lady, indicating the article in question, and looking rather sneeringly at Mr.

Oliver for his by no means civil performance.

Consequently, a moment after the young man finds himself beside Miss Travenion, though Mr. Livingston has destroyed a _tete-a-tete_ by sitting upon the other hand of the beauty.

Ferdie has grouped himself with Miss Amory and is entering into some society small talk or gossip that apparently interests her greatly, as she gives out every now and then excited giggles and exclamations at the young man's flippant sentences.

Mrs. Livingston is occupied with Mr. Southmead, who has just said: "You brought Louise with you from Newport?"

"Of course," answers the widow. "We have left there for the season."

Then noticing that the gentleman's glance is wandering about the room, she continues: "You need not hope to find Louise here. She is only sixteen--too young for theatre parties. The child is in bed and asleep."

A moment after their voices are lowered, apparently discussing some business matter.

During this, Erma Travenion appears to be considering some proposition in her mind. This gives Lawrence a chance to contemplate her more minutely than when he picked up her fan on the staircase or as he entered the room. He repeats the inspection, with the same decision intensified: she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen; but, dominating even her beauty, is that peculiar and radiant thing we call the charm of manner.

Seated in a languid, careless, dreamy way, as if her thoughts were far from this brilliant supper-room, the unstudied pose of her att.i.tude, gives additional femininity to her graceful figure; for, when self-conscious, Miss Travenion has an appearance of coldness, even _hauteur_; but there is none of this now.

Her well-proportioned head, supported by a neck of enchanting whiteness, is lighted by two eyes which would be sapphires, were they not made dazzling by the soul that s.h.i.+nes through them, reflecting each emotion of her vivacious yet brilliant mind. Her forehead has that peculiar breadth, which denotes that intellect would always dominate pa.s.sion, were it not for her lips that indicate when she loves, she will love with her whole heart. Her figure, betwixt girlhood and womanhood, retains the graces of one and the contours of the other. The dress she wears brings all this out with wonderful distinctness, for it is jet black, even to its laces,--a color which segregates her from the more brilliant decorations of the room, outlining her exquisite arms, shoulders and bust, in a way that would make her seem a statue of ebony and ivory, were it not for the delicate pink of her lips and nostrils as she softly breathes, the slight compression of her brows, and the nervous tapping of her little foot that just shows itself in dainty boot beneath the laces of her robe. These indicate that youthful and enthusiastic life will in a moment make this dreaming figure a vivacious woman.

As Lawrence thinks this, action comes to her. She says impulsively: "You must let me thank you again for the attention you showed me on the stairway."

"What attention?" asks Mr. Oliver Livingston, waking up also.

"Something you were too occupied with yourself to notice," smiles the young lady. "I dropped my fan as we entered this evening, and this gentleman, though he did not know me, was kind enough to pick it up.

But," she continues suddenly, "Captain Lawrence, you can do me a much greater favor."

"Indeed! How?" is Harry's eager answer.

"You say that you have been an engineer upon the Union Pacific Railway.

What portion of it?"

"From Green River to Ogden, though I was employed as a.s.sistant at one time at Cheyenne."

"From Green River to Ogden! Then you must have met my father, Ralph Harriman Travenion."

"No, I never had that pleasure," answers the young man, after a moment's consideration.

"But you must have!" cries the girl impulsively. "He was one of the largest contractors on that portion of the road."

"Your father--a railroad contractor?" answers Harry, opening his eyes, which appear to the young lady very large, earnest, and flas.h.i.+ng compared to the rather effeminate ones of Mr. Livingston.

"Not in New York," laughs Ollie, waving his white hands. "When here, Mr.

Travenion is one of our leading fas.h.i.+onables. Did you see any one dance more gracefully than your father did last winter, Miss Erma?--though I believe he did have something to do with the building of the railway out there."

"I don't see how that was possible," suggests Lawrence. "I and my a.s.sistants figured all the cross-sectionings of that portion of the work, and I know that none were accredited to Ralph Travenion. Our largest contractors were Little & Co., Tranyon & Co., Amos Jennings, George H. Smith, and Brigham Young--nearly all Mormons."

"You are sure?" says the young lady, knitting her brows as if in thought.

"Certainly!"

"This is very curious. Why, I have even had letters from him on Union Pacific paper."

"Perhaps he was a silent partner in one of the companies," suggests Lawrence, who is very much astonished to find a girl in New York's most exclusive set, as Miss Travenion evidently is, connected so intimately with one of the builders of a railway in the Far West.

"Perhaps you are right," says the young lady contemplatively. "However, I will know all about it myself in a few weeks."

"He is coming to visit you, I presume?"

"No, but I am going to take a trip to California with Mrs. Livingston and her party," remarks Erma, "and _en route_ I expect to meet him--my dear father, whom I haven't seen for half a year!" and the girl's eyes light up with sudden tenderness and pleasure. "_Apropos_ of the trip--excuse me." Here she rises suddenly and pa.s.ses to the family lawyer.

At his side she says: "Mr. Southmead, if you have finished your business with Mrs. Livingston, I have some for you. I want to inform you that Mrs. Livingston, her daughter Miss Louise, her son Mr. Chauncey, and myself, intend to take a trip to California, and to ask you, as my trustee, if you have any objection to the same. I presume that it is a mere form, as you are not my guardian."

"You have written to your father?" asks Whitehouse hastily.

"No," laughs the girl. "I intend it to be a surprise to papa."

"Then, let me suggest," answers the lawyer, something of a shade pa.s.sing over his brow, "that you write to Mr. Travenion first."

"Impossible! We have not time! We leave in three days! Fancy--in a little over a week I shall see my father. You wouldn't deprive me of that pleasure, would you, Mr. Southmead?"

"No! but I would suggest that you telegraph him."

"I can't. I have not heard from papa for two weeks, and I do not know his address. Besides, it will be such a surprise!" Miss Travenion has thrown away contemplation from her, and is all brightness and gayety.

"Of course I can have no objections," says Whitehouse.

"Then you don't think it wise?" mutters the girl, with a pout.