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Show 186 I had no way of knowing I was dancing with my future husband. Or that the girl with whom I had come to the dance, Ivy Baker, would some day be Ivy Baker Priest, Treasurer of the United States of America. My future husband, traveling fast, was already asking if I was to be inconsiderate enough to tear Ivy away from the dance before it was out. I hadn't thought of that. I had to leave, like Cinderella, at the stroke of midnight; the dance wouldn't be out until one. What he was getting at was: "May I take you home?" A few more questions revealed that he also boarded at Bakers', that he knew Eldon, and that he had been one of the young men sitting in the parlor listening to me play the piano. He claims that he knew me for his future wife the first time he saw me. I was always sorry I missed a like recognition, but I had closed my mind against new romance, especially in a mining town. Bingham was a noisy, dirty, fascinating place, but not a place to find a husband, to my mind. He was transient, also, on his way home to Colorado Springs, the son of a preacher, from a vain chase of his runaway brother, Earle, who had eluded him and joined the Navy. The dance was in February, and somehow I found, more and more, that I was in the company of this Tall, Dark and Handsome. He didn't ask me for dates. He just came, and took me for walks up the hills, out of the noise and smoke. When Spring came we could be in a garden of wild flowers, out of sight and |
