Robert Kimberly Part 25

"I would not wish you to think anything else. There the beauty of your character begins."

Her repugnance was evident but she bore his eyes without flinching.

"You humiliate me exceedingly," was all she attempted to say.

"The truth should not humiliate you. I----"

"Must I run away?"

"Not, I hope, because I tell you you are beautiful, for I shall continue to tell you so every time I see you."

"Surely you will not take advantage of your hostess, Mr. Kimberly?"

"In what way?" he asked.

"By saying things most unpleasant for her to hear."

"I say things awkwardly, perhaps unpleasantly, but always sincerely."

Alice looked down at her fan, but spoke with even more firmness. "If we are to be good friends, you must excuse me even from sincerity on topics of this kind."

"Don't cut me from your friends.h.i.+p. We must be the best of friends. I cannot conceive of you as being other than kind, even patient with me."

"Then do not say things I cannot listen to."

"I will never say anything you may not listen to. But concede me the privilege--for it is one--of paying honest tribute to your loveliness when I can't help it."

Without raising her eyes she spoke with decision. "I positively will not listen." With the word she caught up her gown and started away. He walked with her. "I am afraid," he said regretfully, "you are sorry you sent for me."

She turned with burning eyes. "You should be the last to make me so, Mr. Kimberly."

"I wish to be the last. Yet I hate to sacrifice sincerity."

"There is something I put far above sincerity."

He looked mildly surprised. "What can it be?"

"Consideration for the feelings of another--particularly if she be somewhat helpless."

"Just a moment." They were entering the hall and he stopped her. "In what way are you helpless?"

"Through consideration on my part for my guest to-night, for my husband's friend, for a friend to whom we both owe much----"

"You owe that friend nothing. If you really think so, disabuse your mind. And I have never professed the slightest friends.h.i.+p for Mr.

MacBirney. Whatever we do, let us keep the facts clear. If we speak of consideration, what about my feelings? And about helplessness--I am up against a stone wall all the time in trying to say anything."

"You have no right to say anything!" exclaimed Alice energetically and starting on as she spoke.

"Perhaps that is true. One that can't say things better than I do shouldn't attempt them. If one of us must be humiliated let it be me.

Where are you taking me?"

She stopped. "Nowhere at all, Mr. Kimberly. Won't you----"

"Where are you going?"

"To look at my table. Mr. MacBirney will be right down. Won't you wait for him in the library?"

"No."

"I should be most grateful."

"I want to see the table myself."

Alice tossed her head. "This way then."

At the threshold of the dining-room, Kimberly paused. The table was dressed in yellow with the lowest tones in the fruits of the centrepiece. The pears were russet, the grapes purple, and pomegranates, apples, and golden plums supplied the tints of autumn. The handles of the old silver basket were tied with knots of broad, yellow ribbon.

Alice, touching the covers here and there, pa.s.sed behind the chairs.

"You get your effects very simply," observed Kimberly. "Only people with a sure touch can do that."

"I thought there were to be no more compliments."

He looked at the sconces. "Just one for the lighting. Even Dolly and Imogene sin in that way. They overdo it or underdo it, and Mrs. Nelson is impossible. Where have you put me?"

She pointed with her fan. "Next to Mrs. Nelson."

"Next to Mrs. Nelson?" he echoed in surprise.

"Why not?"

"Did you say humiliation? Do I deserve so much?"

"At dinner one tries, of course, to group congenial people," suggested Alice coldly.

"But we are not congenial."

"I supposed you were Mrs. Nelson's most frequent guest."

"I have not been at Mrs. Nelson's since the evening Guyot and Lambert were there," said Kimberly. "You, yourself, were there that night."

Alice betrayed no confusion but she was shocked a little to realize that she believed him instantly. Kimberly, at least as to truthfulness, had won her confidence. Her own husband had forfeited it. The difficulty now, she felt, would be ever to believe him at all.

"I remember," she a.s.sented with returning cordiality. "I was very proud to listen that night."

Kimberly stood with his hand on the back of a chair. "Lambert is a brilliant fellow."

"Possibly; my sympathies were not with his views.

"So I sit here?" continued Kimberly patiently. "Who sits next to you?"