And
when Kitty spoke she was apt to illustrate her words, dancing now in
front of her companion, now keeping by his side, now lingering a little
behind him, all the time gesticulating with eyes and lips and gay
motions. She was like a restive young colt--beautiful, excitable. The
boy felt that he had never had such a charming companion before.
All went well, and Kitty's bizarre dress, her hair tossed wildly over
her head and hanging partly down her shoulders, her little feet encased
in the shoes with the rosettes and steel buckles, the frills on her gay
skirt, her bare arms, failed to attract any special attention. But when
they got into the neighborhood of the "Spotted Leopard," a blaze of
light fell full across her. She was a remarkable enough figure to be out
at this hour, and when joined to the somewhat peculiar spectacle, the
wild-looking boys--for they were little more--who had congregated round
this special corner, saw the college cap on her head, they made a rush
forward and the next moment had surrounded her.
They began to laugh and to make facetious remarks. It was all done in a
second. Kitty stood stock still as if some one had shot her. He gay
manner ceased on the instant, she drew herself erect, and the next
moment aimed a blow straight from the shoulder at the nearest of the
men, knocking him over as completely as though he had been a ninepin;
then taking hold of Fred's arm--who had come to her rescue, although the
poor lad had not the least idea what to do--marched away, her face as
crimson as her gay silk blouse.
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