Alice, amused at the importance placed upon the situation, smiled at Dolly’s earnestness. As she ascended the stairs with her hostess, a little wave of self-consciousness swept over her.
On the second floor was a long gallery opening at the farther end upon a western belvedere, lighted just then by the sun. The effect of the room, confusing at first in its arrangement, was, in fact, that of a wide and irregular reception hall for 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. He was opening the door of a room near at hand when he saw his sister with Alice, and came forward to meet them. As he did so, a door mid-way down the hall opened and a man clad in a black habit crossed between Kimberly and Alice.
"That is Francis, who takes care of Uncle John," said Dolly. Francis, walked toward the balcony without seeing the visitors, but his ear caught the tones of Dolly’s voice and she waved a hand at him as he turned his head. He paused to bow and continued his way through a balcony door.
As Kimberly came forward his face was so nearly without a smile that Alice for a moment was chilled.
"I brought Mrs. MacBirney in to see Uncle John a moment, Robert. How are you?" Dolly asked.
"Thank you, very well. And it is a pleasure to see Mrs. MacBirney, Dolly."
He looked into Alice’s eyes as he spoke. She thanked him, simply. Dolly made a remark but Alice did not catch it. In some confusion of thought she was absurdly conscious that Kimberly was 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 in lavender. The three talked together for some moments. Yet something formal remained in Kimberly’s manner and Alice was already the least bit on the defensive.
She was, at any rate, glad to feel that her motoring rig would bear inspection, for it seemed as if his eyes, without offensively appearing to do so, took in the slightest detail of her appearance. His words were of a piece with his manner. They were agreeable, but either what he said lacked enthusiasm or preoccupation clouded his efforts to be cordial.