Robert Kimberly

At one end of the music room a group applaudeda clever young man, who, with his coat cuffs rolledback, was entertaining with amateur sleight-of-hand.

At the other end of the room, surrounded by asecond group, Fritzie Venable played smashingrag-time. About the tables pretty, overfedmarried women, of the plump, childless type, withlittle feet, fattening hands, and rounding shoulders, carried on a running chatter with men youngerthan their husbands.

A young girl, attended at her table by marriedmen, was trying to tell a story, and to overcomeunobserved, her physical repugnance to thewhiskey she was drinking.

In the dining-room Lottie Nelson was thecentre of a lively company, and her familiar pallor, which indulgence seemed to leave untouched, contrasted with the heightened color in DoraMorgan's face.

Robert Kimberly had paused to speak to someone, when Fritzie Venable came up to ask aquestion. At that moment Arthur and DollyDe Castro, with Alice on Dolly's left, enteredfrom the other end of the room. Kimberly sawagain the attractive face of a woman he hadnoticed dancing with Arthur at the Casino. Thethree passed on and into the hall. Kimberly, listening to Fritzie's question, looked after them.

"Fritzie, who is that with Dolly?" he askedsuddenly.

"That is Mrs. MacBirney."

"Mrs. MacBirney?" he echoed. "Who isMrs. MacBirney?"

"Why, Mr. MacBirney's wife, of course. Howstupid of you! I told you all about her beforeyou went upstairs. He has brought his wife onwith him. Dolly knew her mother and has beenentertaining Alice for a week."

"Alice! Oh, yes. I've been away, you know.MacBirney's wife? Of course. I was thinking ofsomething else. Well-I suppose I ought to meether. Come, Fritzie."

CHAPTER III

They found Alice with the De Castros in thehall. Dolly looked pleased as her brothercame forward. Alice collected herself. She felta momentary trepidation at meeting this man, from whom, she was already aware, much of whatshe had seen and most of the people whom she hadmet at Second Lake in some degree derived.

She had heard for years, since girlhood, indeed,of the house of Kimberly. Her own father'sstruggle through life had been in the line of theirbusiness, and the name of the Kimberlys couldnot but be haloed wherever refiners discussedtheir affairs. Moreover, at the moment her ownhusband was seeking, and with prospects ofsuccess, an alliance with them.

Yet in a moment she found it all very easy.Kimberly's manner as he met her was simplicityitself. His words were few and did not confuseher, yet they were sufficient to relieve the necessityof any effort on her part to avoid embarrassingpauses. She only noticed that the others ratherwaited for Kimberly to speak; giving him a chanceto say without interruption whatever he pleasedto say. Beyond this, that the conversation wasnow reserved for herself and Kimberly, she wasat ease and wondered why she had been a littleafraid of him. The surprise was that he wasyounger than she had supposed. She began towonder that his name should at times commandso much of the public interest. Nor could anybut those who knew him have realized that underhis restraint Alice was experiencing his mostgracious manner.

But those who did know him saw instantly howinterested he was in her youth and inexperience.Her cheeks were already flooded with pink, as ifshe realized she must do her best to please andwas conscious that she was not wholly failing.Timidity reflected itself in her answers, yet thiswas no more than an involuntary compliment, pleasing in itself. And whenever possible, Alicetook refuge from the brother's more directquestions by appealing to his sister Dolly. Kimberlywas diverted to see her seek escape in this fashionfrom his directness.

She expressed presently her admiration for thedecorations at the Casino and the talk turnedupon the Hawaiian singers; from them to Hawaiiand Honolulu. Word at that moment came fromthe music room that the singing was beginning.Kimberly without any sign of giving up Alice, followed Dolly and her husband down the hallto where the guests were gathering.

The group paused near the foot of the stairs.Alice asked an explanation of the chant that theyhad heard at the Casino and Kimberly interpretedthe rhythm for her. "But I should have thought,"he added, "you would be familiar with it."

"Why so?"

"Because you have been at the Islands."

"Pray, how did you know that?"

"By your pronunciations."

"Ah, I see. But I was there only once, whenI was quite young, with my father."

"And yet you have no lei to-night? That ishardly loyal, is it?"

"We came late and they had all been givenout, I suppose."

"I have one in reserve. You must show yourgood-will to the musicians. Permit me." Heturned with dignity to the console where he had sounceremoniously discarded his own lei and pickedthe garland up to lay it upon Alice's shoulders.

"But Robert," Fritzie cried, "you mustn't!That is a rose lei."

"What is the difference?" asked Kimberly.

"There's a superstition, you know, about a rose lei."

"Mercy, what is it?" demanded Alice, pink and smiling.

"If a man gives you a rose lei you must marryhim or you will die."

"Fortunately," remarked Kimberly, lifting thedecoration quickly above Alice's head and placingit without hesitation on her shoulders, "neitherMrs. MacBirney nor I are superstitious. And theroses harmonize perfectly with your gown,Mrs. MacBirney. Don't you love the Islands?"

"I've always wanted to go back to them to stay.I don't think if I had my choice I should everleave them."

"Neither should I. We must get up a partyand have a yacht meet us in San Francisco forthe trip. This fall would be a good time to get away."

His decisive manner was almost startling; thetrip seemed already under way. And hismannerisms were interesting. A certain haltingconfidence asserted itself under the affected indifferenceof his utterance. Whatever he proposed seemedas easy as if done. He carried his chin somewhatlow and it gave a dogmatism to his words. Whilehe seemed to avoid using them obtrusively, hiseyes, penetrating and set under the straight heavybrows which contracted easily, were a barometerfrom which it was possible to read his intent.

"You have been frequently at the Islands?" returned Alice.

"Years ago I knew them very well."

"Father and I," Alice went on, "spent a monthat Honolulu." And again the softness of her longvowels fell agreeably on Kimberly's ear. Hervoice, he thought, certainly was pretty. "It islike a paradise. But they have their sorrows, dothey not? I remember one evening," Alice turnedtoward Fritzie to recount the incident, "just at thesunset of a rarely perfect day. We were walkingalong the street, when we heard the most piercingcries from a little weeping company of women andchildren who were coming down the esplanade.In front of them walked a man all alone-hewas a leper. They were taking him away fromhis family to be sent to Molokai. It was themost distressing thing I ever saw." She turned toKimberly. "You have never been at Molokai?"

"I have cruised more or less around it. Doyou remember the windward cliffs just above theleper settlement? They are superb from the sea.We put in once at Kalawao for a night and I calledon the priest in charge of the mission."

"It must have been very, very dreadful."

"Though like all dreadful places, disappointingat first; nothing, apparently, to inspire horror.But after we had breakfasted with the priest inthe morning, we went around with him to see hispeople." Kimberly's chin sank and his eyesclosed an instant as he moved his head. "Iremember," he added slowly, "a freezing uparound the heart before we had gone very far."Then he dismissed the recollection. "The attendantat home who takes care of my uncle-Francis-"he continued, "had a brother in the lepermissions. He died at Molokai. Francis hasalways wanted to go there."

The conversation waited a few moments on thesinging. "Miss Venable tells me," said Alice, presently, "these singers always come out to singfor you when they visit this country."

"I have met most of them at one time or anotherin Hawaii. You know they are the gentlest, mostgrateful people in the world. Sha'n't we havesome refreshment, Mrs. MacBirney?"

CHAPTER IV

"I am hoping it will all be settled satisfactorilysoon," said Dolly De Castro to Alice oneafternoon a few weeks afterward. She had invitedAlice out from town for a fortnight at Black Rockwhile MacBirney, with McCrea and the activepartners of the Kimberly interests were workingon the negotiations for the purchase of theMacBirney factories.

"And when it is settled, I can congratulate you,I think, my dear, most sincerely on any issue thatassociates your husband and his interests withthose of my brothers."

"Indeed, I realize that it would be a matter forcongratulation, Mrs. De Castro. I hope if theydo come to terms, your brothers will findMr. MacBirney's Western acquaintance andexperience of some value. I am sorry you haven'tseen more of my husband-"

"I understand perfectly how engaged he has been."

"He is an unceasing worker. I told himyesterday, when he was leaving home, thatMrs. De Castro would think I had no husband."

"Then," continued Dolly, pursuing her topic,"if you can secure the little Cedar Lodge estateon the west shore-and I think it can bearranged-you will be very comfortable."

Dolly had suggested a drive around the lake, and as she made an admirable guide Alice lookedforward with interest to the trip. If it should beobjected that Dolly was not a good conversationalist,it could be maintained that she was a fascinating talker.

It is true that people who talk well must, asa penalty, say things. They can have nocontinued mental reserves, they must unburden theirinner selves. They let you at once into the heartof affairs about them-it is the price that thebrilliant talker must pay. Such a one gives you forthe moment her plenary confidence, and beforeAlice had known Dolly a month, she felt as if shehad known her for years.

On their drive the orders were to follow theprivate roads, and as the villas around the entire lakeconnected with one another, they were obliged touse the high-roads but little. Each of the placeshad a story, and none of these lost anything inDolly's dramatic rendering.

From the lower end of the lake they drove toSunbury, the village-commonplace, but Colonial,Dolly explained-and through it. Taking theridge road back of the hills, they approachedanother group of the country places. The houses ofthese estates belonged to an older day than thoseof the lake itself. Their type indicated thedescent from the earlier simplicity of the Colonial, and afforded a melancholy reminder of thearchitectural experiments following the period of theCivil War.

"Our families have been coming out here for ahundred years," observed Dolly. "These dreadfulFrench roofs we have been passing, give youthe latest dates on this side of the ridge." As shespoke they approached a house of brown sandstoneset in an ellipse of heavy spruces.

"This was the Roger Morgan place. Mrs. Morgan,Bertha, was our half-sister, dear, theonly child of my father's first marriage-she diedseven years ago. This villa belongs to FritzieVenable. She was Roger Morgan's niece. Butshe hasn't opened it for years-she just keeps acaretaker here and makes her home withImogene. To me, spruces are depressing."

"And what is that?" asked Alice, indicatingan ivy-covered pile of stone in the midst of acluster of elms at some distance to the left of thehouse and on a hill above it. "How odd and pretty!"

"That is the Morgan chapel."

"Oh, may we see it?"

"Of course," assented Dolly, less enthusiastically."Do you really want to see it?"

It was Alice's turn to be interested: "Why, yes,if we may. How quaint-looking," she pursued, scrutinizing the façade.

"It is, in fact, a mediæval style," said Dolly.

The car was turned into the driveway leading upto the chapel. When the two women had alightedand walked up the steps to the porch, Alice foundthe building larger than it had appeared frombelow the Morgan house.

Dolly led the way within. "It really is abeautiful thing," she sighed as they entered. "Areproduction in part-this interior-of a little churchin Rome, that Mrs. Morgan was crazy about, SantaMaria in-dear me, I never can remember, SantaMaria in something or other. But I want youto look at this balustrade, and to walk up intoone of these ambones. Can't you see somedark-faced Savonarola preaching from one on the sinsof society?" Dolly ascended the steps of oneambone as she spoke, while Alice walked up intothe other.

"You look as if you might do very well thereyourself on that topic," suggested Alice.

"But I don't have to get into an ambone topreach. I do well anywhere, as long as I have anaudience," continued Dolly as she swept the modestnave with a confident glance.

They walked back toward the door: "Here's aperfect light on the chancel window," said Dollypausing. "Superb coloring, I think."

Alice, held by the soft rich flame of the glass, halted a moment, and saw in a niche removedfrom casual sight the bronze figure of a knightstanding above a pavement tomb. "Is this amemorial?"

"Poor Bertha," continued Dolly; "ordered mostof these windows herself."

"But this bronze, Mrs. De Castro, what is it?"

"A memorial of a son of Bertha's, dear."

The shield of the belted figure bore the Morganarms. An inscription set in the tomb at his feettook Alice's attention, and Dolly without joiningher waited upon her interest.

"And in whose memory do you say this is?"persisted Alice.

"In memory of one of Bertha's sons, dear."

"Is he buried here?"

"No, he lies in Kimberly Acre, the familyburial-ground on The Towers estate-where weshall all with our troubles one day lie. This poorboy committed suicide."

"How dreadful!"

"It is too sad a story to tell."

"Of course."

"And I am morbidly sensitive about suicide."

"These Morgans then were relatives of theMrs. Morgan I met last night?"

"Relatives, yes. But in this instance, thatsignifies nothing. These, as I told you, were Fritzie'speople and are very different."

They reëntered the car and drove rapidly downthe ridge. In the distance, to the south and east, the red gables of a cluster of buildings showed faraway among green, wooded hills.

"That is a school, is it?" asked Alice.

"No, it is a Catholic institution. It is a school,in a way, too, but not of the kind youmean-something of a charitable and training school.The Catholic church of the village stands justbeyond there. There are a number of Catholicsover toward the seashore-delightful people. Wehave none in our set."

The ridge road led them far into the countryand they drove rapidly along ribboned highwaysuntil a great hill confronted them and they beganto wind around its base toward the lake and home.Half-way up they left the main road, turned intoan open gateway, and passing a lodge entered theheavy woods of The Towers villa.

"The Towers is really our only show-place,"explained Dolly, "though Robert, I think, neglectsit. Of course, it is a place that stands hardtreatment. But think of the opportunities on thesebeautiful slopes for landscape gardening."

"It is very large."

"About two thousand acres. Robert, I fancy, cares for the trees more than anything else."

"And he lives here alone?"

"With Uncle John Kimberly. Uncle John isall alone in the world, and a paralytic."

"How unfortunate!"

"Yes. It is unfortunate in some ways; inothers not so much so. Don't be shocked. Oursis so big a family we have many kinds. UncleJohn! mercy! he led his poor Lydia a life. Andshe was a saint if ever a wife was one. I hopeshe has gone to her reward. She never sawthrough all the weary years, never knew,outwardly, anything of his wickedness."

Dolly looked ahead. "There is the house.See, up through the trees? We shall get a fineview in a minute. I don't know why it has to be, but each generation of our family has had a brainyKimberly and a wicked Kimberly. The legendis, that when they meet in one, the Kimberlyswill end."

CHAPTER V

To afford Alice the effect of the mainapproach to The Towers itself, Dolly ordereda roundabout drive which gave her guest an ideaof the beauties of the villa grounds.

They passed glades of unusual size, borderedby natural forests. They drove among pleasingsuccessions of hills, followed up valleys withoccasional brooks, and emerged at length on wide, open stretches of a plateau commanding the lake.

A further drive along the bluffs that rose highabove the water showed the bolder features of anAmerican landscape unspoiled by overtreatment.The car finally brought them to the lower end ofa long, formal avenue of elms that made a settingfor the ample house of gray stone, placed on anelevation that commanded the whole of SecondLake and the southern country for many miles.

Its advantage of position was obvious and thecastellated effect, from which its name derived, implied a strength of uncompromising pridecommonly associated with the Kimberlys themselves.

At Dolly's suggestion they walked aroundthrough the south garden which lay toward thelake. At the garden entrance stood a sun-dial andAlice paused to read the inscription:

 
Per ogni ora che passa, im ricordo.
Per ogni ora che batte, una felicità.
Per ogni ora che viene, una speranza.
 

"It is a duplicate of a dial that Robert fanciedin the garden of the Kimberly villa on LagoMaggiore," Dolly explained. "Come this way, I wantyou to see the lake and the terrace."

From the terrace they looked back again at thehouse. Well-placed windows and ampleverandas afforded views in every direction of thesurrounding country. Retracing their way to themain entrance, they ascended a broad flight ofstone steps and entered the house itself.

Following Dolly into the hall, Alice saw achamber almost severe in spaciousness and stillsomewhat untamed in its oak ruggedness. But glimpsesinto the apartments opening off it were delightfullysatisfying.

They peeped into the dining-room as they passed.It was an old-day room, heavily beamed in gloomyoak, with a massive round table and high chairs.The room filled the whole southern exposure ofits wing and at one end Alice saw a fireplace abovewhich hung a great Dutch mirror framed in heavyseventeenth-century style. Dolly pointed to it: "It is our sole heirloom, and Robert won't changeit from the fireplace. The Kimberly mirror, wecall it-from Holland with our first Kimberly.The oak in this room is good."

Taken as a whole, however, Dolly franklyconsidered The Towers too evidently suggestiveof the old-fashioned. This she satisfactorilyaccounted for by the fact that the house lacked themagic of a woman's presence.

Alice, walking with her, slowly and critically, found nowhere any discordant notes. The carpetsoffered the delicate restraints of Eastern fancy, andthe wall pictures, seen in passing, invited moreleisurely inspection.

There was here something in marble, somethingthere Oriental, but nowhere were effects confused, and they had been subdued until consciousness oftheir art was not aroused.

Alice, sensitive to indefinable impressions, hadnever seen anything comparable to what she nowsaw, and an interior so restful should have put herat ease.

Yet the first pleasing breath in this atmospherebrought with it something, she could not have toldwhat, of uneasiness, and it was of this that shewas vaguely conscious, as Dolly questioned theservant that met them.

"Is Mr. De Castro here yet?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. De Castro. He is with Mr. Kimberly.I think they are in the garden."

"Tell them we are here. We will go up andspeak to Uncle John."

They were at the foot of the stairs: "Sha'n't Iwait for you?" suggested Alice.

"By no means. Come with me. He is reallythe head of the family, you know," Dolly addedin an undertone, "and mustn't be slighted."

Alice, amused at the importance placed uponthe situation, smiled at Dolly's earnestness. Asshe ascended the stairs with her hostess, a littlewave of self-consciousness swept over her.

On the second floor was a long gallery openingat the farther end upon a western belvedere, lighted just then by the sun. The effect of theroom, confusing at first in its arrangement, was,in fact, that of a wide and irregular reception hallfor the apartments opening on the second floor.At the moment the two women reached the archway,a man walked in at the farther end from the terrace.

"There is Robert, now!" Dolly exclaimed. Hewas opening the door of a room near at handwhen he saw his sister with Alice, and cameforward to meet them. As he did so, a doormid-way down the hall opened and a man clad in ablack habit crossed between Kimberly and Alice.

"That is Francis, who takes care of UncleJohn," said Dolly. Francis, walked toward thebalcony without seeing the visitors, but his earcaught the tones of Dolly's voice and she waveda hand at him as he turned his head. He pausedto bow and continued his way through a balcony door.

As Kimberly came forward his face was sonearly without a smile that Alice for a momentwas chilled.

"I brought Mrs. MacBirney in to see Uncle Johna moment, Robert. How are you?" Dolly asked.

"Thank you, very well. And it is a pleasureto see Mrs. MacBirney, Dolly."

He looked into Alice's eyes as he spoke. Shethanked him, simply. Dolly made a remark butAlice did not catch it. In some confusion ofthought she was absurdly conscious that Kimberlywas looking at her and that his eyes were gray, that he wore a suit of gray and that she now, exchanging compliments with him, was clad inlavender. The three talked together for somemoments. Yet something formal remained inKimberly's manner and Alice was already theleast bit on the defensive.

She was, at any rate, glad to feel that her motoringrig would bear inspection, for it seemed as ifhis eyes, without offensively appearing to do so, took in the slightest detail of her appearance.His words were of a piece with his manner. Theywere agreeable, but either what he said lackedenthusiasm or preoccupation clouded his efforts tobe cordial.

"They told us," said Dolly, at length, "youwere in the garden."

"Arthur is down there somewhere," returnedKimberly. "We will go this way for Uncle John,"he added. "Francis is giving him an airing."

They walked out to the belvedere. Facing thesunset, Alice saw in an invalid chair an old manwith a wrinkled white face. Dolly, hasteningforward, greeted him in elevated tones. Kimberlyturned to Alice with a suggestion of humor as theywaited a little way from Dolly's hand. "My sister, curiously enough," said he, "always forgets thatUncle John is not deaf. And he doesn't like it a bit."

"Many people instinctively speak louder toinvalids," said Alice. Uncle John's eyes turnedslowly toward Alice as he heard her voice. Dolly, evidently, was referring to her, and beckoned herto come nearer. Alice saw the old man looking ather with the slow care of the paralytic-of onewho has learned to distrust his physical faculties.Alice disliked his eyes. He tried to rise, but Dollyfrowned on his attempt: it looked like a failure, anyway, and he greeted Alice from his chair.

"You are getting altogether too spry, UncleJohn," cried Dolly.

His eyes turned slowly from Alice's face toDolly's and he looked at his talkative niecequizzically: "Am I?" Then, with the mildlysuspicious smile on his face, his eyes returned to Alice.Kimberly watched his uncle.

"They say you want to ride horseback,"continued Dolly, jocularly. He looked at her again: "Do they?" Then he looked back at Alice.

Kimberly, his hands half-way in the pockets ofhis sack-coat, turned in protest: "I think youtwo go through this every time you come over,Dolly." Dolly waved her hand with a laugh.Uncle John this time did not even take the troubleto look around. He continued to smile at Aliceeven while he returned to Robert hisnon-committal: "Do we?"

Alice felt desirous of edging away from UncleJohn's kind of Kimberly eyes. "You ought toget better here very fast, Mr. Kimberly," she saidto him briskly. "This lovely prospect!" sheexclaimed, looking about her. "And in everydirection."

"It is pretty toward the lake," Robertvolunteered, knowing that Uncle John would merelylook at Alice without response.

He led the way as he spoke toward the mirroredsheet of water and, as Alice came to his side, pointed out the features of the landscape. Dollysat a moment with Uncle John and joinedKimberly and Alice as they walked on.

They encountered the attendant, BrotherFrancis, who had retreated as far as he could from thevisitors. Dolly, greeting him warmly, turned toAlice. "Mrs. MacBirney, this is Brother Franciswho takes care-and such excellent care! – of UncleJohn."

Brother Francis's features were spare. Hisslender nose emphasized the strength of his face.But if his expression at the moment was sober, and his dark eyes looked as if his thoughts mightbe away, they were kindly. His eyes, too, fellalmost at the instant Dolly spoke and he onlybowed his greeting to Alice. But with Francisa bow was everything. Whether he welcomed, tolerated, or disapproved, his bow clearly andsufficiently signified.

His greeting of Alice expressed deference andsincerity. But there was even more in it-somethingof the sensible attitude of a gentleman who,in meeting a lady in passing, and being himselfan attendant, desires to be so considered and seekswith his greeting to dismiss himself from thesituation. To this end, however, Francis's effortswere unsuccessful.

"He is the most modest man in the world,"murmured Dolly, in concluding a eulogium, delivered to Alice almost in the poor Brother's face.

"Then why not spare his feelings?" suggestedKimberly.

"Because I don't believe in hiding a light undera bushel," returned Dolly, vigorously. "Thereis so little modesty left nowadays-"

"That you want to be rid of what there is,"suggested Kimberly.

"That when I find it I think it a duty torecognize it," Dolly persisted.

Brother Francis maintained his composure aswell as he could. Indeed, self-consciousnessseemed quite lacking in him. "Surely," hesmiled, bowing again, "Madame De Castro has agood heart. That," he added to Alice, italicizinghis words with an expressive forefinger, "is thereal secret. But I see danger even if one shouldpossess a gift so precious as modesty," hecontinued, raising his finger this time in mildadmonition; "when you-how do you say in English-'trotout' the modesty and set it up to lookat" – Francis's large eyes grew luminous inpantomime-"the first thing you know, pff! Where is it?You search." Brother Francis beat the skirt of hisblack gown with his hands, and shook it as if todislodge the missing virtue. Then holding hisempty palms upward and outward, and addingthe dismay of his shoulders to the fanciedsituation, he asked: "Where is it? It is gone!"

"Which means we shouldn't tempt BrotherFrancis's modesty," interposed Alice.

Francis looked at Alice inquiringly. "You area Catholic?" he said, "your husband not."

Alice laughed: "How did you know?"

Francis waved his hand toward his informant: "Mr. Kimberly."

The answer surprised Alice. She looked atKimberly.

There was an instant of embarrassment. "Francisfeels our pagan atmosphere so keenly," Kimberlysaid slowly, "that I gave him the news aboutyou as a bracer-just to let him know we had afriend at court even if we were shut out ourselves."

"He told me," continued Francis, with humor,"that a Catholic lady was coming this afternoon, and to put on my new habit."

"Which, of course, you did not do," interposedKimberly, regaining the situation.

Brother Francis looked deprecatingly at hisshiny serge.

Dolly and Alice laughed. "Mr. Kimberlydidn't understand that you kept on your old oneout of humility," said Alice. "But how did youknow anything about my religion?" she asked, turning to Kimberly.

Francis took this chance to slip away to his charge.

"Arthur De Castro is the culprit," answeredKimberly. "He told me some time ago."

"You have a good memory."

"For some things. Won't you pour tea forMrs. MacBirney, Dolly? Let us go downstairs, anyway."

He walked with Alice into the house, talking asthey went.

Dolly bent over Uncle John's chair. "Isn'tshe nice?" she whispered, nodding toward Aliceas Alice disappeared with Kimberly. "Youknow Madame De Castro went to school in Pariswith her mother, who was a De Gallon, and herfather-Alice's grandfather-was the last man inLouisville to wear a queue."

Uncle John seemed not greatly moved at thisinformation, but did look reminiscent. "Whatwas her father's name?"

"Alice's father was named Marshall. He andher mother both are dead. She has no nearrelatives."

"I remember Marshall-he was a refiner."

"Precisely; he met with reverses a few years ago."

Uncle John looked after Alice with his feeble, questioning grin. "Fine looking," he muttered, still looking after her much as the toothless giantlooked after Christian as he passed his cave. "Finelooking."

Dolly was annoyed: "Oh, you're always thinkingabout fine looks! She is nice."

Uncle John smiled undismayed. "Is she?"