By Kate Chopin
It was still quite light out of doors， but inside with thecurtains 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 himand he did not mind. The obscurity lent him courage to keephis eyes fastened as ardently as he liked upon the girl who satin the firelight.
She was very handsome， with a certain fine， rich coloringthat belongs to the healthy brune type. She was quitecomposed， as she idly stroked the satiny coat of the cat that laycurled in her lap， and she occasionally sent a slow glance intothe shadow where her companion sat. They were talking low，of indifferent things which plainly were not the things thatoccupied 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 hersociety eagerly and persistently. She was confidently waitingfor him to declare himself and she meant to accept him. Therather insignificant and unattractive Brantain was enormouslyrich； and she liked and required the entourage which wealthcould give her.
During one of the pauses between their talk of the last teaand the next reception the door opened and a young manentered whom Brantain knew quite well. The girl turned herface toward him. A stride or two brought him to her side， andbending over her chair—before she could suspect his intention，for she did not realize that he had not seen her visitor—hepressed an ardent， lingering kiss upon her lips.
Brantain slowly arose； so did the girl arise， but quickly， andthe newcomer stood between them， a little amusement andsome defiance struggling with the confusion in his face.
“I believe，” stammered Brantain， “I see that I have stayedtoo 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 notperceive that she was extending her hand to him， her presenceof mind had not completely deserted her； but she could nothave trusted herself to speak.
“Hang me if I saw him sitting there， Nattie！ I know it’sdeuced awkward for you. But I hope You’ll forgive me thisonce—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 answeredcoldly， in self-justification. “We came in the side way. Hewent upstairs and I came in here hoping to find you. Theexplanation is simple enough and ought to satisfy you that themisadventure was unavoidable. But do say that you forgiveme， 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 everforgive you.”
At that next reception which she and Brantain had beentalking about she approached the young man with a deliciousfrankness 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 andwalked away with him， seeking a retired corner， a ray of hopemingled with the almost comical misery of his expression. Shewas 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， andbelieved things”—hope was plainly gaining the ascendancyover misery in Brantain’s round， guileless face—“Of course，I know it is nothing to you， but for my own sake I do wantyou to understand that Mr. Harvy is an intimate friend oflong standing. Why， we have always been like cousins—likebrother and sister， I may say. He is my brother’s most intimateassociate and often fancies that he is entitled to the sameprivileges 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—ofme.” Her voice had grown very low and agitated. The miseryhad 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， dimcorridor that was lined on either side with tall， graceful plants.
They walked slowly to the very end of it. When they turnedto retrace their steps Brantain’s face was radiant and hers wastriumphant.
Harvy was among the guests at the wedding； and he soughther out in a rare moment when she stood alone.
“Your husband，” he said， smiling， “has sent me over to kissyou.”
A quick blush suffused her face and round polished throat. “Isuppose it’s natural for a man to feel and act generously on anoccasion of this kind. He tells me he doesn’t want his marriageto interrupt wholly that pleasant intimacy which has existedbetween you and me. I don’t know what you’ve been tellinghim，” with an insolent smile， “but he has sent me here to kissyou.”
She felt like a chess player who， by the clever handling ofhis pieces， sees the game taking the course intended. Her eyeswere bright and tender with a smile as they glanced up intohis； and her lips looked hungry for the kiss which they invited.
“But， you know，” he went on quietly， “I didn’t tell him so， itwould have seemed ungrateful， but I can tell you. I’ve stoppedkissing women； it’s dangerous.”
Well， she had Brantain and his million left. A person can’thave everything in this world； and it was a little unreasonableof her to expect it.
