They found Alice with the De Castros in the hall. Dolly looked pleased
as her brother came forward. Alice collected herself. She felt a
momentary trepidation at meeting this man, from whom, she was already
aware, much of what she had seen and most of the people whom she had met
at Second Lake in some degree derived.
She had heard for years, since girlhood, indeed, of the house of
Kimberly. Her own father's struggle through life had been in the line
of their business, and the name of the Kimberlys could not but be haloed
wherever refiners discussed their affairs. Moreover, at the moment her
own husband was seeking, and with prospects of success, an alliance with
them.
Yet in a moment she found it all very easy. Kimberly's manner as he met
her was simplicity itself. His words were few and did not confuse her,
yet they were sufficient to relieve the necessity of any effort on her
part to avoid embarrassing pauses. She only noticed that the others
rather waited for Kimberly to speak; giving him a chance to say without
interruption whatever he pleased to say. Beyond this, that the
conversation was now reserved for herself and Kimberly, she was at ease
and wondered why she had been a little afraid of him. The surprise was
that he was younger than she had supposed. She began to wonder that his
name should at times command so much of the public interest. Nor could
any but those who knew him have realized that under his restraint Alice
was experiencing his most gracious manner.
But those who did know him saw instantly how interested he was in her
youth and inexperience. Her cheeks were already flooded with pink, as if
she realized she must do her best to please and was conscious that she
was not wholly failing. Timidity reflected itself in her answers, yet
this was no more than an involuntary compliment, pleasing in itself.
And whenever possible, Alice took refuge from the brother's more direct
questions by appealing to his sister Dolly. Kimberly was diverted to
see her seek escape in this fashion from his directness.
She expressed presently her admiration for the decorations at the Casino
and the talk turned upon the Hawaiian singers; from them to Hawaii and
Honolulu. Word at that moment came from the music room that the singing
was beginning. Kimberly without any sign of giving up Alice, followed
Dolly and her husband down the hall to where the guests were gathering.
The group paused near the foot of the stairs. Alice asked an explanation
of the chant that they had heard at the Casino and Kimberly interpreted
the 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, when I was quite young, with my
father."
"And yet you have no lei to-night? That is hardly loyal, is it?"
"We came late and they had all been given out, I suppose."
"I have one in reserve. You must show your good-will to the musicians.
Permit me." He turned with dignity to the console where he had so
unceremoniously discarded his own lei and picked the 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 marry him or you will die."
"Fortunately," remarked Kimberly, lifting the decoration quickly above
Alice's head and placing it without hesitation on her shoulders,
"neither Mrs. MacBirney nor I are superstitious. And the roses
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 ever leave them."
"Neither should I. We must get up a party and have a yacht meet us in
San Francisco for the trip. This fall would be a good time to get
away."
His decisive manner was almost startling; the trip seemed already under
way. And his mannerisms were interesting. A certain halting confidence
asserted itself under the affected indifference of his utterance.
Whatever he proposed seemed as easy as if done. He carried his chin
somewhat low and it gave a dogmatism to his words. While he seemed to
avoid using them obtrusively, his eyes, penetrating and set under the
straight heavy brows which contracted easily, were a barometer from
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 month at Honolulu." And again
the softness of her long vowels fell agreeably on Kimberly's ear. Her
voice, he thought, certainly was pretty. "It is like a paradise. But
they have their sorrows, do they not? I remember one evening," Alice
turned toward Fritzie to recount the incident, "just at the sunset of a
rarely perfect day. We were walking along the street, when we heard the
most piercing cries from a little weeping company of women and children
who were coming down the esplanade. In front of them walked a man all
alone--he was a leper. They were taking him away from his family to be
sent to Molokai. It was the most distressing thing I ever saw." She
turned to Kimberly. "You have never been at Molokai?"
"I have cruised more or less around it. Do you remember the windward
cliffs just above the leper settlement? They are superb from the sea.
We put in once at Kalawao for a night and I called on the priest in
charge of the mission."
"It must have been very, very dreadful."
"Though like all dreadful places, disappointing at first; nothing,
apparently, to inspire horror. But after we had breakfasted with the
priest in the morning, we went around with him to see his people."
Kimberly's chin sank and his eyes closed an instant as he moved his
head. "I remember," he added slowly, "a freezing up around the heart
before we had gone very far." Then he dismissed the recollection. "The
attendant at home who takes care of my uncle--Francis--" he continued,
"had a brother in the leper missions. He died at Molokai. Francis has
always wanted to go there."
[Illustration: Kimberly placed it without hesitation on her shoulders]
The conversation waited a few moments on the singing. "Miss Venable
tells me," said Alice, presently, "these singers always come out to sing
for you when they visit this country."
"I have met most of them at one time or another in Hawaii. You know
they are the gentlest, most grateful people in the world. Sha'n't we
have some refreshment, Mrs. MacBirney?"