Sabrina's Man by Gilbert Morris

He said, “I’m Lane Williams, and this is Miss Marianne Warren, daughter of Charles and Caroline Warren.”
    â€œAnd may I have this dance, Miss Marianne?”
    Marianne was flustered. He was the best-looking man in the hall as far as she was concerned, and there was something dashing about him, always an extra for a man.
    He led her to the dance floor, and soon they were moving around smoothly. “You dance beautifully, Miss Warren.”
    â€œWhy, thank you, Mr. Robbins. You say you’re new in town?”
    â€œYes, just here on some business.”
    â€œWell, where is your home?”
    â€œOh, out West. I deal in cattle quite a bit. Have a large ranch.”
    â€œOh, how exciting!”
    Robbins laughed. “Well, that’s one way of looking at it, but taking care of a thousand cows is not very exciting. That’s why I come East every once in a while just to have some real culture.”
    Marianne was fascinated and peppered him with questions about his ranch and his life. He had a smooth voice and had all the wit that one would expect in a man. “You don’t look like a cowboy.”
    â€œWell, I don’t wear spurs and chaps and a ten-gallon hat to a ball like this.” Robbins smiled. “What does your father do?”
    â€œHe owns an ironworks here in Memphis. Actually, it’s called Warren Steel Mill.”
    â€œAnd you have brothers and sisters?”
    â€œOnly one sister. She’s around here somewhere.”
    For the rest of the ball, Marianne either danced with Gerald Robbins or else waited for another chance.
    When Lane prepared to see her and Sabrina home by going outside and sending for the carriage, Robbins said, “I’m a lonesome bachelor and usually wouldn’t be this forward, but there’s a concert tomorrow in the park. I just wonder if you would accompany me.”
    â€œOh, I’ll have to ask my father. But I’m sure he’ll say yes,” Marianne said.
    Robbins bowed slightly. “I’ll pick you up, if you’ll give me your address, tomorrow. I think the concert begins at two o’clock.”
    Marianne watched as he walked away.
    After he had returned to the party, Sabrina joined Marianne with their coats.
    â€œOh, I wanted you and Mr. Robbins to meet before we leave. He is so wonderful, Sabrina. I know you will just love him. He is taking me to a concert tomorrow. That is, if Father agrees to his taking me.”
    â€œYou know how to work Father. Just give him that pitiful look you do when you want something, and he will give in as usual. Now let’s go. Lane is waiting for us.”
    â€œBut Mr. Robbins. . .”
    â€œI’ll meet him some other time, Marianne, all right? Come along now. My feet hurt. Let’s go home and relax.”
    Marianne relented. “Well, I think you will have many other opportunities to meet him as I plan on seeing Mr. Robbins many more times after tonight.” She sighed contentedly as she left with her sister. She knew she would in fact see him in her dreams that very night.

CHAPTER 8
    J uly had brought a heat wave into Memphis. Dulcie had washed some of Sabrina’s finer clothes and was now hanging them out on the line. She mumbled to herself as she often did. “There comes that no ’count Caesar. He’s gonna try to get next to me just like he always does, but he ain’t gonna have no luck.”
    â€œWell, hello. How’s my favorite young woman?” Caesar, the carriage driver, was a tall, well-built, handsome black man. He had a beautiful smile and graceful moves that had made him a favorite with the ladies. Now he came and stood next to Dulcie and said, “What you been up to today, Miss Dulcie?”
    â€œI’ve been eavesdropping.”
    Caesar blinked his eyes. “Well, that ain’t nice. Who was you eavesdropping on?”
    â€œI was listening to Miss Sabrina and Miss Marianne. Then I listened to