CHAPTER VIII
ROSES RED
It was certainly rather a curious coincidence that when Mr. MatthewKendrick and his grandson Richard entered upon the scene of the Grays'Christmas Eve party it should be at the moment when Mr. Rufus Gray andhis niece Roberta were dancing a quadrille together. Richard had justbeen received by his hosts and had turned from them to look about him,when his searching eye caught sight of the pair. This was the precisemoment--he always afterward recalled it--when his heart gave its firstgreat, disconcerting leap at sight of her, such a leap as he had neverknown could shake a man to the foundations.
He had never seen precisely this Roberta before; he explained it tohimself in that way. It was a good explanation. Any sane man who saw herfor the first time that night must instantly have fallen under herspell.
The Christmas party was the event of the year dearest to Roberta'sheart. The planning for it, since she had been old enough to take herpart, had been in her hands; it was she who was responsible for everydetail of decoration. The great attic room, which was a gloriousplayroom the rest of the year, was transformed on Christmas into afairyland. The results were brought about in much the same way as inother places of revelry, with lighting and draping and the use ofevergreens and flowers; but somehow one felt that no drawing-roomsimilarly treated could have been half so charming as the big atticspaces with their gables.
And the company! At first Richard saw only the pair who danced togetherin the quadrille. If he had glanced about him he might have observedthat the gaze of nearly all who were not dancing was centred upon thosetwo.
Uncle Rufus was the plumpest, jolliest, most altogether delightfulspecimen of the country gentleman that Richard had ever seen. His ruddyface was clean-shaven, his heavy gray hair waved a little with a boyisheffect about his ears. He was carefully dressed in a frock coat of a cutnot so ancient as to be at all odd, and it fitted his broad shoulderswith precision. He wore a white waistcoat and a flowing black tie, whichhelped to carry out the impression of his being a boy whose hair hadaccidentally turned gray. As he danced he put every possibleembellishment of posture and step into his task, and when he bowed toRoberta his attitude expressed the deepest reverence, offset only by hislaughing face as he advanced to take her hand.
But as for the girl herself--what was she? A beauty stepping out of aportrait by one of the masters? She wore her grandmother's ball gown ofrose-coloured brocade, and her hair was arranged in the fashion thatwent with it, small curls escaping from the knot at the back of herhead, a style which set off her radiant face with peculiarly piquanteffect. Her cheeks matched her frock, and her eyes--what were her eyes?Black stars, or wells of darkness into which a man might fall and drownhimself?
She seemed to draw to herself, as she danced, among the soberer coloursof her elders and the white frocks of the country cousins, all the lightin the room. "I would look at something else if I could," thoughtRichard to himself, "but it would be only a blur to me after looking ather."
When Roberta returned Uncle Rufus's bow it was with a posturing such asRichard had seen only in plays; it struck him now that the gracefuldroop of her whole figure to the floor was the most perfect thing he hadever seen; and when her head came up and he saw her laughing face liftagain to meet her partner's, he considered the boyish old gentleman whotook her hand and led her on in the intricate figures of the dance aperson to be envied.
"Aren't Rob and Uncle Rufus the greatest couple you ever laid eyes on?"exulted Louis Gray, coming up to greet him. "The next is going to be awaltz. Will you ask Mrs. Stephen? We'll let you begin easily, but shallexpect you to end by dancing with Aunt Ruth, Uncle Rufus's wife--whichwill be no hardship when you really know her, I assure you. We indulgein no ultra-modern dances on Christmas Eve, you see, and have nodance-cards; it's always part of the fun to watch the scramble forpartners when the number is announced."
So presently Richard found himself upon the floor with little Mrs.Stephen Gray, waltzing with her according to his own discretion, thoughall around them were dancers whose steps ranged from present-day methodsto the ancient fashion of turning round and round without ever areverse. He saw Roberta herself revolving in slow circles in an endlessspiral, piloted by the proud arm of Mr. Philip Gray. She nodded at himpast her uncle's shoulder, and he wondered seriously if she meant todance with elderly uncles all the evening.
Before he could approach her she was off in the next dance with a youngcousin, a lad of seventeen. Richard himself took out one of the countrycousins to whom Mrs. Stephen had presented him, a very pretty,fair-haired girl in white muslin and blue ribbons; and he did his bestto give her a good time. He found her pleasant company, as Mrs. Stephenhad prophesied, and at another time--any time--before he came into theattic room to-night, he might have found no little enjoyment in herbright society. But in his present condition his one hope and endeavourwas to get the queen of the revels, the rose of the garden, into hispossession.
With this end in view he faithfully devoted himself to whatever partnerwas given him by Louis, who had taken him in charge and was enjoying tothe full the spectacle of "Rich" Kendrick exerting himself, as he hadprobably never done before, to give pleasure to those with whom he wasthrown. At last Fate and Roberta were kind to him. It was Louis,however, who manipulated Fate in his behalf.
Catching his sister as one of her cousins, a young son of Uncle Henry,released her, Louis drew her into a corner--as much of a corner as onecould get into with a sister at whom, wherever she turned, half thecompany was looking.
"See here, Rob, you're not playing fair with the guest. Here's theevening half over and you haven't given him a solitary chance. What'sthe matter? You're not afraid of His Highness?"
"This is a dance for the uncles and cousins," retorted Roberta, "not forsociety young men."
"But he's done his duty like a man and a brother. He's danced with auntsand cousins, too, and has done it as if it were the joy of his life. ButI know what he wants and I think he deserves a reward. The next waltzwill be a peach, 'Roses Red.' Give it to the poor young millionaire,Robby; there's a good girl."
"Bring him here," said she with an air of resignation, and she turned toa group of young people who had followed her as bees follow their queen."Not this time, dears," said she. "I'm engaged for this dance to a pooryoung man who has wandered in here and must be made to feel at home."
"Is that the one?" asked one of the pretty country cousins, indicatingRichard, who, obeying Louis's beckoning hand, was crossing the floor intheir direction. "Oh, you won't mind dancing with him. He's as nice ashe is good-looking, too."
"I'm delighted to hear it," said Roberta.
The next minute "the poor young man" was before her. "Am I really tohave it?" he asked her. "Will you give me the whole of it and not cut itin two, as I saw you do with the last one?"
"It would be rather a pity to cut 'Roses Red' in two, wouldn't it?" saidshe.
"The greatest pity in the world." He was looking at her cheek in thelast instant before they were off. Talk of roses! Was there ever a roselike that cheek?
Then the music sent them away upon its wings and for a space measured bythe strains of "Roses Red" Richard Kendrick knew no more of earth. Not aword did he speak to her as they circled the great room again and again.He did not want to mar the beauty of it by speech--ordinary exchange ofcomment such as dancers feel that they must make. He wanted to dreaminstead.
"Look at Rob and Mr. Kendrick," said Ruth in Rosamond's ear. "Aren'tthey the most wonderful pair you ever saw? They look as if they weremade for each other."
"Don't tell Rob that," Rosamond warned her enthusiastic sister-in-law."She would never dance with him again."
"I can't think what makes her dislike him so. Look at her face--turnedjust as far away as she can get it. And she never speaks to him at all.I've been watching them."
"It won't hurt him to be disliked a little," declared Mrs. Stephenwisely. "It's probably the first time in his life a girl has ever turnedaway her head--ex
cept to turn it back again instantly to see if heobserved."
"What would Forbes Westcott say if he could see them? Do you know he'scoming back soon? Then Rob will have her hands full! Do you suppose shewill marry him?"
"Little matchmaker! I don't know. Nobody ever knows what Rob is going todo."
Nobody ever did, least of all her newest acquaintance. If he was to havea moment with her after the dance he realized that he must be cleverenough to manage it in spite of her. He laid his plans, and when thelast strains of "Roses Red" were hastening to a delirious finish he hadRoberta at the far end of the room, at a point fairly deserted and closeto one of the gable corners where rugs and chairs made a resting-placehalf hidden by a screen of holly.
"Please give me just a fraction of your time," he begged. "You've beendancing steadily all the evening; surely you're ready for a bit ofquiet."
"I'm not as tired as I was before that dance," said she, and let himseat her, though she still looked like some spirited creature poised forflight.
"Aren't you really?" His face lighted with pleasure. "I feel as if I hadhad a draught of--well, something both soothing and exhilarating, but Ididn't dare to hope you enjoyed it, too."
"Oh, yes, you did," said she coolly, looking up at him for an instant."You know perfectly well that you're one of the best dancers who evermade a girl feel as if she had wings. Of course I knew you would be. Theleader of cotillions--"
"That's the second time I've had that accusation flung at me under thisroof," said he, and his face clouded as quickly as it had lighted. "I ambeginning to wonder what kind of a crime you people think it to be aleader of cotillions. As a matter of fact, I'm not one, for I neveraccept the part when I can by any chance get out of it."
"You have the enviable reputation of being the most accomplished personin that role the town can produce. You should be proud of it."
He pulled up a chair in front of her and sat down, looking--or trying tolook--straight into her eyes.
"See here, Miss Gray," said he with sudden earnestness, "if that's theonly thing you think I can do you're certainly rating me pretty low."
"I'm not rating you at all. I don't know enough about you."
"That's a harder blow than the other one." He tried to speak lightly,but chagrin was in his face. "If you'd just added 'and don't want toknow' you'd have finished your work of making me feel about three feethigh."
"Would you prefer to be made to feel eight feet? Plenty of people willdo that for you. You see I so often find a yardstick measures my ownheight, I know the humiliating sensation it is. And I'm never moreconvinced of my own smallness than when I see my uncles and theirfamilies at Christmas, especially Uncle Rufus. Do you know which one heis?"
"You were dancing with him when I came in."
"I didn't see you come in."
"I might have known that," he admitted with a rueful laugh. "Well, didyou dance an old-fashioned square dance with him, and is he a delightfullooking, elderly gentleman with a face like a jolly boy?"
"Exactly that--and he's a boy in heart, too, but a man in mind. I wonderif--"
"He'd care to meet me? I'm sure you weren't going to ask if I'd care tomeet him. But I'd consider it an honour if he'd let me be presented tohim."
"Now you're talking properly," said she. "It is an honour to be allowedto know Uncle Rufus, and I think you'll feel it so." She rose.
He got up reluctantly. "Thank you, I certainly shall," said he quitesoberly. "But--must we go this minute? Surely you can sit out onenumber, and I'll promise after that to stand on my head and dance with abroomstick if it will please your guests."
"I've a mind to hold you to that offer," said she, with mischief in hereyes. "But the next number is the old-time 'Lancers,' and I'm needed.Should you like to dance it?"
"With you? I--"
"Of course not. With--well, with Aunt Ruth, Uncle Rufus's wife. Youought to know her if you're to know him. She's just a bit lame, but wealways get her to dance the 'Lancers' once on Christmas Eve, and if youwant the dearest partner in the room you shall have her."
"I'll be delighted, if you'll tell me how it goes. If it's like thething I saw you dancing I can manage it, I'm sure."
"It's enough like it so you'll have no trouble. I'll dance opposite youand keep you straight. See here--" and she gave him a hasty outline ofthe figures.
His eyes were sparkling as he followed her out of the alcove. To beallowed to dance opposite Roberta and be "kept straight" by her throughthe figures of an unfamiliar, old-fashioned affair like the "Lancers"was a privilege indeed. He laughed to himself to think what certainpeople he knew would say to his new idea of privilege.
He bent before Mrs. Rufus Gray, offered her his arm, and took her outupon the floor, accommodating his step to the little limp of hispartner. As he stood waiting with her he was observing her as he hadnever before observed a woman of her years. Of all, the sweet faces, ofall the bright eyes, of all the pleasant voices--Aunt Ruth captured hisinterest and admiration from the moment when she first smiled at him.
He threw himself into the dance with the greatest heartiness. The musicwas played rather slowly, to give Aunt Ruth time to get about, and theresult was almost the stately effect of a minuet. Never had he put moregrace and finish into his steps, and when he bowed to Aunt Ruth it wasas a courtier drops knee before a queen. His unfamiliarity with thefigures gave him excuse to keep his eyes upon Roberta, and she found hima pupil to whom she had only to nod or make the slightest gesture of thehand to show his part.
"Did you ever see anything so fascinating as Aunt Ruth and Mr.Kendrick?" asked Mrs. Stephen in her husband's ear as they stood lookingon.
"There's certainly no criticism of his manner toward her," Stephenreplied. "I'll say for him that he's a pastmaster at adaptation. I'llwager he's enjoying himself, too. It's a new experience for the societyyouth."
"Stevie, why do you all insist on making a 'society youth' of him? It'shis misfortune to have been born to that sort of thing, but I don'tbelieve he cares half as much for it as he does for--just this sort."
"This is a novelty to him, that's all. And he's clever enough to seethat to please Rob he must be polite to her family. Rob is the stakehe's playing for--till some other pretty girl takes his fancy."
Rosamond shook her head. "You all do him injustice, I believe. Of coursehe admires Rob; men always do if they've any discrimination whatever.But--there are other things that appeal to him. Stephen"--her appealingface flushed with interest--"when you have a chance, slip out with Mr.Kendrick and take him upstairs to see Gordon and Dorothy asleep. I justwent up; they look too dear!"
"Why, Rosy, you don't imagine he'd care--"
"Try him--just to please me. I could take him myself, but I'd rather youwould. I want you to look at his face when he looks at them."
"He _has_ got round you--" began her husband, but she made him promise.
When Stephen came upon Richard the guest was with Uncle Rufus and AuntRuth. The young man was entering with great spirit into his conversationwith the pair, and they were evidently enjoying him.
"I'll have to give him credit for possessing genuine courtesy," thoughtStephen.
At this moment a group of young people came up and demanded the presenceof Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray in another part of the room, and Richard wasset at liberty. Stephen took him by the arm.
"Before you engage again in the antic whirl I have a special exhibit toshow you outside the ballroom. Spare me five minutes?"
"Spare you anything," responded the guest, following Stephen out ofthe room as if he wanted nothing so much as to do whatever might besuggested to him.
In two minutes they were downstairs and at the far end of a longcorridor which led to the rooms in a wing of the big house occupied bythe Stephen Grays. Richard was led through a pleasant living-room wherea maid was reading a book under the drop-light. She rose at theirappearance and Stephen nodded an "All right" to her. He conductedRichard to the door of an inner room, which, as he opened it,
let a rushof cold air upon the two men entering.
"Turn up your collar; it's winter in here," said Stephen softly. Heswitched on a shaded light which revealed a nursery containing two smallbeds side by side. Two large windows at the farther end of the room werewide open, and all the breezes of the December night were playing aboutthe sleepers.
The sleepers! Richard bent over them, one after the other, scanning eachrosy face. The baby girl lay upon her side, a round little cheek, afringe of dark eyelashes, and a tangle of fair curls showing against thepillow. The boy was stretched upon his back, his arms outflung, his headturned toward the light so that his face was fully visible. If he hadbeen attractive with his wonderful eyes open, he was even more winsomewith them closed. He looked the picture of the sleeping angel who hasnever known contact with earth.
"I thought he would never be done looking," Stephen acknowledgedafterward when he told his exulting wife about the scene. "I was halffrozen, but he acted like a man hypnotized. Finally he looked up at me.'Gray, you're a rich man,' said he. 'I suppose you know it or youwouldn't have brought me up here to show me your wealth.' 'I believe Iknow it,' said I. 'What does it feel like,' he asked, 'to look at theseand know they're yours?' I told him that that was a thing I couldn'texpress. 'Forgive me for asking,' said he. 'No man would want to try toexpress it--to another.' I began to like him after that, Rosy--I reallydid. The fellow seems to have a heart that hasn't been altogetherspoiled by the sort of life he's lived. On our way upstairs he saidnothing until we were nearly back to the attic. Then he put his hand onmy arm. 'Thank you for taking me, Gray,' he said. I told him you wantedme to do it. He only gave me a look in answer to that; but I fancy youwould have liked the look, little susceptible girl."
It was Ted who got hold of the guest next. "I hope you're having a goodtime, Mr. Kendrick," said the young son of the house, politely. "I'vebeen so busy myself, dancing with all my girl cousins, I haven't hadtime to ask you."
"I've been having the time of my life, Ted. I can't remember when I'veenjoyed anything so much."
"I saw you once with Rob. You're lucky to get her. She hasn't had timeto dance once with me and I'd rather have her than any girl here, she'sso jolly. She always keeps me laughing. You and she didn't seem to belaughing at all, though."
"Did we look so serious? Perhaps she felt like laughing inside, though,at my awkward steps."
Ted stared. "Why, you're a bully dancer," he declared. "What girl areyou going to have for the Virginia reel? We always end with that--attwelve o'clock, you know."
"I haven't a partner, Ted. I wish you'd get me the one I want."
"Tell me who it is and I'll try. We're going down to bring up suppernow, we fellows. Want to help?"
"Of course I do. How is it done?"
"Everything's in the dining-room and some of the younger ones go down.But we boys and men go and bring up everything for the older folks.Maybe I oughtn't to ask you, though," he hesitated. "You're company."
"Let me be one of the family to-night," urged Richard. "I'll bring upsupper for Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray and pretend they're my aunt anduncle, too. I wish they were."
"I don't blame you; they _are_ the jolliest ever, aren't they? Come on,then. Rosy's looking at us; maybe she'll tell you not to go."
They hurried away downstairs, racing with each other to the first floor.
"Hullo! you, too?" Louis greeted the guest from the farther side of thetable filled with all manner of toothsome viands, where he was piling upa tray to carry aloft. "Glad to see you're game for the whole show. Takeone of those trays and load it with discretion--weight equallydistributed, or you'll get into trouble on the stairs. You're new atthis job, and it takes training."
"I'll manage it," and the young man fell to work, capably assisted by amaid, who showed him what to take first and how to insure its safedelivery.
On his way up, walking cautiously on account of the cups of smokingbouillon which he was concerned lest he spill, he encountered arose-coloured brocade frock on its way down.
"Good for you, Mr. Kendrick," hailed Roberta's voice, full and sweet.
He paused, balancing his tray. "Why are you going down? Won't you let mebring up yours when I've given this to Unc--to Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray?"
"Are you enjoying your task so well? Look out, keep your eye on thetray! There's nothing so treacherous to carry as cups so full as those."
"Stop laughing at me and I'll get through all right. All I need is alittle practice. Next time I come up I'm going to try balancing thewhole thing on my hand and carrying it shoulder-high."
"Please practice that some time when you're all alone in your ownhouse."
"I'll remember. And please remember I'm going to bring up yoursupper--and my own. May we have it in the place where we were after thedance?"
"Yes, with six others who are waiting there already. That will belovely, thank you. I'll be back by the time you have everything up."
"Of all the hard creatures to corner," thought Richard, going on upwardwith his tray. "Anyhow, I can have the satisfaction of waiting on her,which is better than nothing."
He found it so. The six people in the gable corner proved to be of theyounger boys and girls, and, though they were all eyes and ears forhimself and Roberta, he had a sufficient sense of being paired off withthe person he wanted to keep him contented. They ate and drank merrilyenough, and the food upon his plate seemed to Richard the best he hadever tasted at an affair of the kind.
The evening was gone before he knew it. He could secure no more danceswith Roberta, but he had one with Ruth, during which he made up for hissilence with her sister by exchanging every comment possible duringtheir exhilarating occupation. He began it himself:
"It's a real sorrow to me, Miss Ruth, to be warned that this party isnearly over."
"Is it, Mr. Kendrick? It would be to me if to-morrow weren't ChristmasDay. It's worth having this stop to get to that. You see, to-night wehang up our stockings."
"Good heavens, Miss Ruth--where? Not in front of any one chimney?"
"No, each in our own room, at the foot of the bed. The things that won'tgo into the stockings are on the breakfast-table."
"I'll think of you when I'm waking to my solitary dressing. I never hungup my stocking in my life."
"You haven't!" Ruth's tone was all dismay. "But you must have had heapsof Christmas presents?"
"Oh, yes, I've a friend or two who present me with all sorts ofinteresting articles I seldom find a use for. And when I was a littlechap I remember they always had a tree for me."
"I don't care much for trees," Ruth confided. "I like them better inshop windows than I do at home. But to hang up your stocking and thenfind it all stuffed and knobby in the morning, with always somethingperfectly delightful in the toe for the very last! Oh, I love it!"
"I wish I were a cousin of yours, so I could look after that toe presentmyself," said Richard daringly.
"You do miss a lot of fun, not having a jolly family Christmas likeours."
"I'm convinced of it. See here, Miss Ruth, there's something I want youto do for me if you will. When you waken to-morrow morning send me--aChristmas thought. Will you? I'll be looking for it."
Ruth drew back her head in order to look up into his face for aninstant. "A Christmas thought?" she repeated, surprised.
He nodded. "As if I were a brother, you know, far away at the other sideof the world--and lonely. I'll really be as far away from all yourmerry-making as if I were at the other side of the world, you see--andI'm not sure but I'll be as lonely."
"Why, Mr. Kendrick! You--lonely! I can't believe it!" Ruth almost forgotto keep step in her surprise. "But--of course, just you and yourgrandfather! Only--I've heard how popular--"
She paused, not venturing to tell him all she had heard of his gay andfashionable friends and how they were always inviting and pursuing him."Are you always lonely at Christmas?" she ended.
"Always; though I've never realized what was the matter with me tillthis year. Do
you care about finishing this dance? Let's stop in thisnice corner and talk about it a minute."
It was the same corner, deserted now, where he had twice tried to keepher elusive sister. Ruth was easier to manage, for she was genuinelyinterested.
"Just this year," he explained, "I've found out why I've never cared forChristmas. It's a beastly day to me. I spend it as I should Sunday--getthrough with it somehow. At last I go out to dinner somewhere in theevening, and so end the day."
"We all go to church on Christmas morning," Ruth told him. "That's alovely way to spend part of the morning, I think. It gives you the realChristmas feeling. Don't you ever do it?"
He shook his head. "Never have; but I will to-morrow if you'll tell mewhere you go."
"To St. Luke's. The service is so beautiful, and we all have been theresince we were old enough to go. I'm sure you'll like it. Wouldn't yourgrandfather like to go with you?"
Richard stared at her. "Why, I shouldn't have thought of it. Possibly hewould. We never go anywhere together, to tell the truth."
"That's queer, when you're both so lonely. He must be lonely, too,mustn't he?"
"I never thought about it," said the young man. "I suppose he is. Henever says so."
"You never say so either, do you?" suggested the girl naively.
The two looked at each other for a minute without speaking.
"Miss Ruth," said her companion at length, lowering his eyes to thefloor and speaking thoughtfully, "I believe, to tell the truth, I'm aselfish beast. You've put a totally new idea into my head--more shame tome that it should be new. It strikes me that I'll try a new way ofspending Christmas; I'll see to it that whoever is lonely grandfatherisn't--if I can keep him from it."
"You can!" cried Ruth, beaming at him. "He thinks the world of you;anybody can see that. And you won't be lonely yourself!"
"Won't I? I'm not so sure of that--after to-night. But I admit it'sworth trying. May I report to you how it works?" he asked, smiling.
Ruth agreed delightedly, and, when they separated, watched with interestto see that the new idea had already begun to work, as indicated by theway the younger Kendrick approached the elder, who was making hisfarewells.
"Going now, grandfather?" said he, with his hand on old MatthewKendrick's arm. "We'll go together. I'll call James."
"You going too, Dick?" inquired his grandfather, evidently surprised."That's good."
As he took leave of Roberta, Richard found opportunity to exchange withher ever so brief a conversation. "This has been quite a wonderfulexperience to me, Miss Gray," said he. "I shall not forget it."
Her eyes searched his for an instant, but found there only sincerity."You have done your part better than could have been expected," sheadmitted.
"What grudging commendation! What should you have expected? That Ishould sulk in a corner because I couldn't have things all my own way?"
She coloured richly, and he rejoiced at having put her in confusion foran instant. "Of course not. But every one wouldn't have eyes to see thebeauties of a family party where all the fun wasn't for the youngpeople."
"There was only one dance I enjoyed better than the one with Mrs. RufusGray." He lowered his tone so that she could hear. "Since you havecommended me for doing as your brother bade me--be all things to allpartners--will you give me my reward by letting me tell you that I shallnever hear 'Roses Red' again without thinking of the most perfect danceI ever had?"
"That sounds like an appropriate farewell from the cotillion leader,"said Roberta. Then instantly she knew that in her haste to cover a verygirlish sense of pleasure in the thing he had said she herself had saidan unkind one. She knew it as a slow red came into her guest's handsomeface and his eyes darkened. Before he could speak--though, indeed, hedid not seem in haste to speak--she added, putting out her handimpulsively:
"Forgive me; I didn't mean it. You have been lovely to every oneto-night, and I have appreciated it. I am wrong; I think you are muchmore--and have in you far more--than--as if you were only--the thing Isaid."
He made no immediate reply, though he took the hand she gave him. Hecontinued to look at her for so long that her own eyes fell. When he didspeak it was in a low, odd tone which she could not quite understand.
"Miss Gray," said he, "if you want to cut a man to the quick, insist onthinking him that which he has never had any love for being, and whichhe has grown to detest the thought of. But perhaps it's a salutary sortof surgery, for--by the powers! if I can't make you think differently ofme it won't be for lack of will. So--thank you for being hard on me,thank you for everything. Good-night!"
As she looked at him march away with his head up, her hand was achingwith the force of the almost brutally hard grip he had given it withthat last speech. Her final glimpse of him showed him with a tinge ofthe angry red still lingering on his cheek, and a peculiar set to hisfinely cut mouth which she had never noticed there before. But, in spiteof this, anything more courtly than his leave-taking of her mother andher Aunt Ruth she had never seen from one of the young men of the day.