It was still quite
light out of doors, but inside with the curtains drawn and the smouldering fire
sending out a dim, uncertain glow, the room was full of deep shadows.
Brantain sat in one of
these shadows; it had overtaken him and he did not mind. The obscurity lent him
courage to keep his eves fastened as ardently as he liked upon the girl who sat
in the firelight.
She was very handsome,
with a certain fine, rich coloring that belongs to the healthy brune type. She
was quite composed, as she idly stroked the satiny coat of the cat that lay
curled in her lap, and she occasionally sent a slow glance into the shadow
where her companion sat. They were talking low, of indifferent things which
plainly were not the things that occupied their thoughts. She knew that he
loved her-a frank, blustering fellow without guile enough to conceal his
feelings, and no desire to do so. For two weeks past he had sought her society
eagerly and persistently. She was confidently waiting for him to declare
himself and she meant to accept him. The rather insignificant and unattractive
Brantain was enormously rich; and she liked and required the entourage which
wealth could give her.
During one of the
pauses between their talk of the last tea and the next reception the door
opened and a young man entered whom Brantain knew quite well. The girl turned
her face toward him. A stride or two brought him to her side, and bending over
her chair--before she could suspect his intention, for she did not realize that
he had not seen her visitor--he pressed an ardent, lingering kiss upon her
lips.
Brantain slowly arose;
so did the girl arise, but quickly, and the newcomer stood between them, a
little amusement and some defiance struggling with the confusion in his face.
"I believe,"
stammered Brantain, "I see that I have stayed too long. I--I had no
idea--that is, I must wish you good-by." He was clutching his hat with
both hands, and probably did not perceive that she was extending her hand to
him, her presence of mind had not completely deserted her; but she could not
have trusted herself to speak.
"Hang me if I saw
him sitting there, Nattie! I know it's deuced awkward for you. But I hope
you'll forgive me this once-- this very first break. Why, what's the
matter?"
"Don't touch me;
don't come near me," she returned angrily. "What do you mean by
entering the house without ringing?"
"I came in with
your brother, as I often do," he answered coldly, in self-justification.
"We came in the side way. He went upstairs and I came in here hoping to
find you. The explanation is simple enough and ought to satisfy you that the
misadventure was unavoidable. But do say that you forgive me, Nathalie,"
he entreated, softening.
"Forgive you! You
don't know what you are talking about. Let me pass. It depends upon--a good
deal whether I ever forgive you."
At that next reception
which she and Brantain had been talking about she approached the young man with
a delicious frankness of manner when she saw him there.
"Will you let me
speak to you a moment or two, Mr. Brantain?" she asked with an engaging
but perturbed smile. He seemed extremely unhappy; but when she took his arm and
walked away with him, seeking a retired corner, a ray of hope mingled with the
almost comical misery of his expression. She was apparently very outspoken.
"Perhaps I should
not have sought this interview, Mr. Brantain; but--but, oh, I have been very
uncomfortable, almost miserable since that little encounter the other
afternoon. When I thought how you might have misinterpreted it, and believed
things" --hope was plainly gaining the ascendancy over misery in
Brantain's round, guileless face--"Of course, I know it is nothing to you,
but for my own sake I do want you to understand that Mr. Harvy is an intimate
friend of long standing. Why, we have always been like cousins--like brother
and sister, I may say. He is my brother's most intimate associate and often
fancies that he is entitled to the same privileges as the family. Oh, I know it
is absurd, uncalled for, to tell you this; undignified even," she was
almost weeping, "but it makes so much difference to me what you think of--
of me." Her voice had grown very low and agitated. The misery had all
disappeared from Brantain's face.
"Then you do
really care what I think, Miss Nathalie? May I call you Miss Nathalie?"
They turned into a long, dim corridor that was lined on either side with tall,
graceful plants. They walked slowly to the very end of it. When they turned to
retrace their steps Brantain's face was radiant and hers was triumphant.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Harvy was among the
guests at the wedding; and he sought her out in a rare moment when she stood
alone.
"Your
husband," he said, smiling, "has sent me over to kiss you. "
A quick blush suffused
her face and round polished throat. "I suppose it's natural for a man to
feel and act generously on an occasion of this kind. He tells me he doesn't
want his marriage to interrupt wholly that pleasant intimacy which has existed
between you and me. I don't know what you've been telling him," with an insolent
smile, "but he has sent me here to kiss you."
She felt like a chess
player who, by the clever handling of his pieces, sees the game taking the
course intended. Her eyes were bright and tender with a smile as they glanced
up into his; and her lips looked hungry for the kiss which they invited.
"But, you
know," he went on quietly, "I didn't tell him so, it would have
seemed ungrateful, but I can tell you. I've stopped kissing women; it's
dangerous."
Well, she had Brantain
and his million left. A person can't have everything in this world; and it was
a little unreasonable of her to expect it.
Kate Chopin