Robert Kimberly

"Robert told you about Tennie Morgan's death."

Alice looked at her inquiringly. "How didyou know?"

"You were in the Morgan chapel together.And you looked upset when you came back. Ihad promised to tell you the story sometimemyself. I know how easy it is to get a falseimpression concerning family skeletons. So I askedRobert about it the minute you left the car, and Iwas annoyed beyond everything when he said hehad told you the whole story."

"But dear Mrs. De Castro! Why should yoube annoyed?"

Dolly answered with decision: "Robert has nobusiness ever to speak of the affair." Alice couldnot dispute her and Dolly went on: "I knowjust how he would talk about it. Not that Iknow what he said to you. But it would be likehim to take very much more of the blame onhimself than belongs to him. Men, my dear, look atthese things differently from women, and usuallymake less of them than women do. In this caseit is exactly the reverse. Robert has always hadan exaggerated idea of his responsibility in thetragedy-that is why it annoys me ever to havehim speak about it. I know my brother better, Ithink, than anybody alive knows him, and I amperfectly familiar with all the circumstances. Iknow what I am talking about."

Very much in earnest Dolly settled back. "Tobegin with, Tennie was an abnormal boy. Hewas as delicate in his mental texture as cobweblace. His sensitiveness was something incredibleand twenty things might have happened to upsethis mental balance. No one, my dear, likes totalk state secrets."

"Pray do not, then. It really is not necessary,"pleaded Alice.

"Oh, it is," said Dolly decidedly, "I want youto understand. Suicide has been a spectre to theKimberlys for ages. Two generations agoSchuyler Kimberly committed suicide at sixty-six-thinkof it! Oh! I could tell you stories. Therehas been no suicide in this generation. But theshadow," Dolly's tones were calm but inflectedwith a burden of what cannot be helped may aswell be admitted, "seems only to have passed itto fall upon the next in poor Tennie. Two yearsafterward they found his mother dead onemorning in bed. I don't know what the troublewas-it was in Florence. Nobody knows-there wasjust a little white froth on her lips. The doctorssaid heart disease. She was a strange woman,Bertha, strong-willed and self-indulgent-like allthe rest of us."

"Don't say that of yourself. You are notself-indulgent, you are generous."

"I am both, dear. But I know the Kimberlys, men and women, first and last, and that is why Ido not want you to get wrong impressions of them.My brother Robert isn't a saint, neither is Charles.But compare them with the average men of theirown family; compare them with the average menin their own situation in life; compare them withthe Nelsons and the Doanes; compare them withthat old man that Robert is so patient with!Compare them, my dear, to the men everywherein the world they move in-I don't think theKimberly men of this generation need apologizeparticularly.

"Robert was so completely stunned by Tennie'sdeath that for years I did not know what wouldhappen. Then a great industrial crisis came inour affairs, though afterward it seemed, in a way, providential. Poor old Uncle John got it intohis head he could make sugar out of corn andended by nearly ruining us all. If things hadgone on we should all have been living inapartments within another year. When we were sodeep in the thing that the end was in sight wewent to Robert on our knees, and begged him totake hold of the business and save the family-oh,it had come quite to that. He had been doingabsolutely nothing for a year and I feared allsorts of things about him. But he listened anddid take hold and made the business so big-well, dear heart, you have some idea what it isnow when they can take over a lot of factories, such as those of your husband and his associates,on one year's profits. I suppose, of course, theseare state secrets-you mustn't repeat them-"

"Certainly not."

"And for years they have been the largestlenders of ready money in the Street. So you can'twonder that we think a great deal of Robert. Andhe likes you-I can see that. He has been morenatural since you came here than for years."

"Surely your brothers never can say they havenot a devoted sister."

"I can't account for it," persisted Dolly, continuing. "It is just that your influence is a goodone on him; no one can explain those things. Ithought for years he would never be influencedby any woman again. You've seen how thisone," Dolly tossed her head in disgust as sheindicated Lottie Nelson, then passing, "throwsherself at him." With the last words Dolly rose tosay she was going home. Imogene was ready tojoin her, and Lottie's protests were of no avail.Charles was upstairs conferring with Nelson andImogene went up to get him.

Alice walked to the dining-room. Herhusband, in an uncommonly good-humor, was drinkingwith their hostess. In the centre of the room,Hamilton, Guyot, Lambert, and Dora Morgansat at the large table. Guyot offered Alice a chair.She sat down and found him entertaining. Hetook her after a time into the reception room whereLottie had hung a Degas that Guyot had broughtover for her. Alice admired the fascinatingswiftness and sureness of touch but did not agree withGuyot that the charm was due to the merit ofcolor over line. When the two returned to thedining-room, Kimberly stood at a cellaret withFritzie.

Lottie and MacBirney sat with the group at thebig table. "Oh, Robert," Lottie called toKimberly as Alice appeared in the doorway, "mix mea cocktail."

Turning, Kimberly saw Alice: "I am out ofpractice, Lottie," he said.

"Give me some plain whiskey then."

Kimberly's shortness of manner indicated hisannoyance. "You have that at your hand," hesaid sitting down.

"How rude, Robert," retorted Lottie, withassumed impatience. She glanced loftily around."Walter," she exclaimed, looking across the tableat Alice's husband and taking Alice's breath awaywith the appeal, "give me some whiskey."

"Certainly, Mrs. Nelson."

"No, stop; mix me a cocktail."

"Is your husband an expert, Mrs. MacBirney?"asked Guyot as MacBirney rose.

"Not to my knowledge," answered Alice frankly."I hope," she added, with a touch of asperity asher husband stepped to a sideboard, "thatMrs. Nelson is not fastidious."

"It is disgusting the way my friends arebehaving," complained Lottie turning to Lambert."This is my birthday-"

"Your birthday!"

"That is why you are all here. And whoeverrefuses now to drink my health I cast off forever."

"Is this a regular birthday or are you springingan extra on us?" demanded Fritzie.

"Go on, MacBirney, with your mixture,"exclaimed Lambert, "I'll serve at the table. Youare going to join us, of course, Mrs. MacBirney?"

Alice answered in trepidation: "It must besomething very light for me."

"Try whiskey, Mrs. MacBirney," suggestedDora Morgan benevolently, "it is really the easiestof all."

Alice grew nervous. Kimberly, without speaking, pushed a half-filled glass toward her. Shelooked at him in distress. "That will not hurtyou," he said curtly.

The men were talking Belgian politics. Lambertwas explaining the antiquated customs ofthe reactionaries and the battle of the liberals forthe laicizing of education. He dwelt on thestubbornness of the clericals and the difficulties metwith in modernizing their following.

Kimberly either through natural dislike forLambert or mere stubbornness objected to thespecific instances of mediævalism adduced andsoon had the energetic chemist nettled. "Whatdo you know about the subject?" demandedLambert at length. "Are you a Catholic?"

"I am not a Catholic," returned Kimberlyamiably. "I am as far as possible, I suppose, from being one. The doors of the church arewide, but if we can believe even a small part ofwhat is printed of us they would have to bebroadened materially to take in American refiners."

"If you are not a Catholic, what are you?"persisted Lambert with heat.

"I have one serious religious conviction; that is, that there are just two perfectly managed humaninstitutions; one, the Standard Oil Company, theother the Catholic Church."

There was now a chance to drop the controversyand the women together tried to effect adiversion. But Lambert's lips parted over hiswhite teeth in a smile. "I have noticedsometimes that what we know least about we talk bestabout." Kimberly stirred languidly. "I was bornof Catholic parents," continued Lambert,"baptized in the Catholic Church, educated in it. Ishould know something about it, shouldn't I?You, Mr. Kimberly, must admit you know nothingabout it." Kimberly snorted a little. "All thesame, I take priests' fables for what they areworth," added Lambert; "such, for example, asthe Resurrection of Christ." Lambert laughedheartily. Fritzie looked uneasily at Alice as thewords fell. Her cheeks were crimsoned.

"Can a central fact of Christianity such as theResurrection fairly be called a priests' fable?"asked Kimberly.

"Why not?" demanded Lambert withcontemptuous brevity. "None but fossilizedCatholics believe such nonsense!"

"There are still some Protestants left,"suggested Kimberly mildly.

"No priest dictates to me," continued thechemist, aroused. "No superstition for me. I wantCatholics educated, enlightened, made free. Ishould know something about the church, shouldI not? You admit you know nothing-"

"No, I did not admit that," returned Kimberly."You admitted it for me. And you asked me amoment ago what I was. Lambert, what are you?"

"I am a Catholic-not a clerical!" Lambertemphasized the words by looking from one toanother in the circle. Kimberly spread one of hisstrong hands on the table. Fritzie watching himshrank back a little.

"You a Catholic?" Kimberly echoed slowly."Oh, no; this is a mistake." His hand closed."You say you were born a Catholic. And youridicule the very corner-stone of your faith. The lasttime I met you, you were talking the same sortof stuff. I wonder if you have any idea what ithas cost humanity to give you the faith you sneerat, Lambert? To give you Catholic parents, men nineteen hundred years ago allowedthemselves to be nailed to crosses and torn by dogs.Boys hardly seven years old withstood starvationand scourging and boys of fifteen were burned inpagan amphitheatres that you might be born aChristian; female slaves were thrown into boilingoil to give you the privilege of faith; delicatewomen died in shameful agonies and Romanmaidens suffered their bodies to be torn to pieceswith red-hot irons to give you a Christianmother-and you sit here to-night and ridiculethe Resurrection of Christ! Call yourself liberal,Lambert; call yourself enlightened; call yourselfModern; but for God's sake don't call yourself aCatholic."

"Stop a moment!" cried Lambert at white heat.

Lottie put out her arm. "Don't let's be cross,"she said with deliberate but unmistakableauthority. "I hate a row." She turned her languideyes on MacBirney. "Walter, what are thesepeople drinking that makes them act in this way?Do give Mr. Kimberly something else; he began it."

Kimberly made no effort to soothe any one'sfeelings. And when Fritzie and Alice found anexcuse to leave the room he rose and walkedleisurely into the hall after them.

The three talked a few moments. A sound ofhilarity came from the music room. Alice lookeduneasily down the hall.