Robert Kimberly

"I am not beautiful at all, and I am quite awareof it, Mr. Kimberly."

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

Her repugnance was evident but she bore hiseyes without flinching. "You humiliate meexceedingly," 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 Isee you."

"Surely you will not take advantage of yourhostess, 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 witheven more firmness. "If we are to be good friends, you must excuse me even from sincerity on topicsof this kind."

"Don't cut me from your friendship. We mustbe the best of friends. I cannot conceive of youas 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 listento. But concede me the privilege-for it isone-of paying honest tribute to your loveliness whenI can't help it."

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

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

"I wish to be the last. Yet I hate to sacrificesincerity."

"There is something I put far above sincerity."

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

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

"Just a moment." They were entering thehall and he stopped her. "In what way are youhelpless?"

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

"You owe that friend nothing. If you reallythink so, disabuse your mind. And I have neverprofessed the slightest friendship for Mr. MacBirney.Whatever we do, let us keep the factsclear. If we speak of consideration, what aboutmy feelings? And about helplessness-I am upagainst a stone wall all the time in trying to sayanything."

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

"Perhaps that is true. One that can't saythings 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 willbe right down. Won't you wait for him in thelibrary?"

"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, Kimberlypaused. The table was dressed in yellow withthe lowest tones in the fruits of the centrepiece.The pears were russet, the grapes purple, andpomegranates, apples, and golden plumssupplied the tints of autumn. The handles of theold silver basket were tied with knots of broad, yellow ribbon. Alice, touching the covers hereand there, passed behind the chairs.

"You get your effects very simply," observedKimberly. "Only people with a sure touch cando that."

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

He looked at the sconces. "Just one for thelighting. Even Dolly and Imogene sin in thatway. They overdo it or underdo it, andMrs. 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 groupcongenial people," suggested Alice coldly.

"But we are not congenial."

"I supposed you were Mrs. Nelson's mostfrequent guest."

"I have not been at Mrs. Nelson's since theevening Guyot and Lambert were there," saidKimberly. "You, yourself, were there that night."

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

"I remember," she assented with returningcordiality. "I was very proud to listen that night."

Kimberly stood with his hand on the back of achair. "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?"

"Your brother."