By : Kate Chopin
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.
