Meantime Kitty sat on the bench, stunned. Never before in all her life
had such a thing happened. True, young men had at times attempted to
kiss her, but not in this fashion. A rough embrace, a kiss on her cheek,
and he had gone. Not a word, not a sign of apology. She could not have
been more astounded had a thunder-bolt struck at her feet, nor more
bereft of action. She must have sat there fully ten minutes without
movement. From Thomas, the guileless, this! What did it mean? She
could not understand. Had he instantly begged forgiveness, had he made
protestations of sentiment, a glimmering would have been hers. Nothing;
he had kissed her and walked away: as he might have kissed Celeste, and
had, for all she knew!
When the numbing sense of astonishment passed away, it left her cold with
anger. Kitty was a dignified young lady, and she would not tolerate such
an affront from any man alive. It was more than an affront; it was a
dire catastrophe. What should she do now? What would become of all her
wonderfully maneuvered plans?
She went directly to her room and flung herself upon the bed, bewildered
and unhappy. And there Killigrew found her. He was a wise old man,
deeply versed in humanity, having passed his way up through all sorts and
conditions of it to his present peaceful state.
"Kittibudget, what the deuce is all this about? . . . You've been
crying!"
"Supposing I have?"--came muffled from the pillows.
"What have you been doing to Thomas?"
"I?" she shot back, sitting up, her eyes blazing. "He kissed me, dad, as
he probably kisses his English barmaids."
"Kitty, girl, you're as pretty as a primrose. I don't think Thomas was
really accountable."
"Are you defending him?"--blankly.
"No. The strange part of it is, I don't think Thomas wants to be
defended. A few minutes ago he came to me and told me what he had done.
He is leaving."
The anger went out of her eyes, snuffed--candle-wise. "Leaving?"
"Leaving. He asked me for the motor to the station."
"Leaving! Well, that's about the only possible thing he could do, under
the circumstances. He has a good excuse." Excuse! Kitty's nimble mind
reached out and touched Thomas' Machiavellian inspiration.
"Hang it, Kitty, I had to run out into the lilacs to laugh! Can't this
be smoothed over some way? I like that boy; I don't care if he is a
Britisher and sometimes as simple as a fool. When I think of the other
light-headed duffers who call themselves gentlemen . . . Pah! They
drink my whiskies, smoke my cigars, and dub me an old Mick behind my
back. They run around with silly chorus-girls and play poker till
sun-up, and never do an honest day's work. It takes a brave man to come
to me and frankly say that he has insulted my daughter."
"He said that?" Behind her lips Kitty was already smiling. "You are
acting very strangely, dad."
"I know. Ordinarily I'd have taken him by the collar and hustled him
into the road. And if it had been one of those young bachelors who are
coming down to-night, I'd have done it. I like Thomas; and I don't think
he kissed you either to affront or to insult you."
"Indeed!"--icily.
"I dare say I stole a kiss or two in my day."
"Does mother know it?"
"Back in the old country, when I was a lad. It's a normal impulse.
There isn't a young man alive who can look upon a pretty girl's face
without wishing to kiss it. I don't believe Thomas will repeat the
offense. The trouble, girl, is this--you've been living in a false
atmosphere, where people hide all their generous impulses because to be
natural is not fashionable."
"I marvel at you more and more. Is it generous, then, to kiss a girl
without so much as by your leave? If he had been sorry, if he had
apologized, I might overlook the deed. But he kissed me and walked away.
Do you realize what such an action means to any young woman with pride?
Very well, if he apologizes he may stay; but no longer on the basis of
friendship. It must be purely business. When my guests arrive I shall
not consider it necessary to ask him to join any of our amusements."
"Poor devil! He'll have to pay for that kiss."
"Next, I suppose you'll be wanting me to marry him!" Kitty volleyed. But
she wasn't half so angry as she pretended.
"What? Thomas?"
"Ah, that's different, isn't it? There, there; I've promised to overlook
the offense on condition that he apologize and keep his place. I have
always said that you'd rather have a man about than me."
"Well, perhaps I could understand a man better."
"Go down to breakfast. I hear mother moving about. I'll ring for what I
need. I must bathe and dress. Some of the people will motor in for
lunch."
Killigrew, subdued and mystified, went in search of Thomas and discovered
him in almost the exact spot he had left him; for Thomas, having
breakfasted, had returned to the living-room to await the motor.
"Thomas, when Kitty comes down, apologize. And remember this, that you
can't kiss a pretty girl just because you happen to want to."
"But, Mr. Killigrew, I didn't want to!" said Thomas.
"Well, I'll be tinker-dammed!"
"I mean . . . Really, sir, it is better that I should return at once to
the city. I'm a rotter."
"Don't be a fool! Take your grips back to your room, and don't let's
have any more nonsense. Finish up that report from Brazil; and if you
handle it right, I'll take you into the office where you'll be away from
the women folks."
Thomas' heart went down in despair.
"Mrs. Killigrew can find another secretary for the bureau. I shan't say
a word to her, and I'll see that Kitty doesn't. You've had your
breakfast. Go and finish up that report. Williams," Killigrew called to
the second man, "take Mr. Webb's grips up to his rooms. I'll see you
later, Thomas," and Killigrew made off for the breakfast-room, where he
chuckled at odd times, much to his wife's curiosity. But he shook his
head when she quizzed him.
"You agree with me, Molly, don't you, that Kitty shall marry when and
where she pleases?"
"Certainly, Daniel. I don't believe in ready-made matches."
"No more do I. Molly, old girl, I've slathers of money. I could quit
now; but I'm healthy and can't play all day. Got to work some of the
time. Every one around here shall do as they please. And,"--slyly--"if
Kitty should want to marry Thomas . . ."
"Thomas?"
"Anything against the idea?"
"But Thomas couldn't take care of Kitty."
"H'm."
"And Kitty wouldn't marry a man who couldn't."
"Some truth In that. At present Thomas couldn't support an idea. But
there's makings in the boy, give a man time and nothing else to do.
There's one thing, though; Thomas seems to have the gift of picking out
the chaff when it comes to men. A man who can spot a man is worth
something to somebody. Where Thomas' niche is, however, I can't tell to
date. He'll never get on socially; he has too much regard for other
people's feelings."
"And no tact."
"A poor man needs a good deal of that." Killigrew began paring his
fourth chop-bone. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much in months. Thomas
had kissed Kitty and hadn't wanted to!
It would take a philosopher to dig up the reason for that; or rather a
clairvoyant, since philosophers dealt only with logical sequences, and
there was nothing logical to Killigrew's mind in Thomas kissing Kitty
when he hadn't wanted to!