"Hul-_lo_!" exclaimed Harris Colesworth, under his breath, and 'Phemie knew that he immediately realized the situation. The whole membership--at least, the female portion of it--was hostile to the party from Hillcrest.
While the entertainment was proceeding, however, the Bray girls and their escorts were left in peace. Sairy Pritchett sat where she could stare at Lyddy and 'Phemie, and they were conscious of her antagonistic gaze all the time.
But Lucas was quite undisturbed by his sister's ogling and when there came a break in the program he leaned over and demanded of her in a perfectly audible voice:
"I say, Sairy! You keep on starin' like that and you'll git suthin' wuss'n a squint--you'll git cross-eyed, and it'll stay fixed! Anything about _me_ you don't like the look of? Is my necktie crooked?"
Some of the others laughed--and at Sairy. It made the spinster furious.
"You're a perfect fool, Lucas Pritchett!" she snapped. "If you ever _did_ have any brains, you've addled 'em now over certain folks that I might mention."
"Go it, old gal!" said the slangy Lucas. "Ev'ry knock's a boost--don't forgit that!"
"Huh! that cat's goin' to do somethin' mean. I can see it," growled Lucas.
"She is your sister," admonished 'Phemie.
"That's how I come to know her so well," returned Lucas, calmly. "If she'd only been a boy I'd licked her aout o' this afore naow!"
"About _what_?" asked the troubled 'Phemie.
"Oh, just over her 'tarnal meanness. And maw's so foolish, too; _she_ could stop her."
"I'm sorry we came here to-night, Lucas," 'Phemie whispered.
And at the same moment Lyddy was saying exactly the same thing to Harris Colesworth.
"Pshaw!" said the young chemist, in return, "don't give 'em the satisfaction of seeing we're disturbed. They know no better. I can't understand why they should be so nasty to us."
"It's Lucas's sister," sighed Lyddy. "She thinks she has reason for being offended with me. But I _did_ hope that feeling had died out by this time."
"You say the word and we'll get out of here, Miss Lydia," urged Harris.
"Sh! No," she whispered, for somebody was painfully playing a march on the tin-panny old piano, and Mr. Somers was scowling directly down upon the Hillcrest party to obtain silence.
