Title: The Kiss
Author: Kate
Chopin

Brantain sat in one of these shadows; it had overtaken him and
he did not mind. The obscurity lent him courage to keep his eves fastened as
ardently as he liked upon the girl who sat in the firelight.
She was very handsome, with a certain fine, rich coloring that belongs
to the healthy brune type. She was quite composed, as she idly stroked the
satiny coat of the cat that lay curled in her lap, and she occasionally sent a
slow glance into the shadow where her companion sat. They were talking low, of
indifferent things which plainly were not the things that occupied 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 her society eagerly and persistently. She was confidently waiting
for him to declare himself and she meant to accept him. The rather
insignificant and unattractive Brantain was enormously rich; and she liked and
required the entourage which wealth could give her.
During one of the pauses between their talk of the last tea and
the next reception the door opened and a young man entered whom Brantain knew
quite well. The girl turned her face toward him. A stride or two brought him to
her side, and bending over her chair--before she could suspect his intention,
for she did not realize that he had not seen her visitor--he pressed an ardent,
lingering kiss upon
her lips.
Brantain slowly arose; so did the girl arise, but quickly, and
the newcomer stood between them, a little amusement and some defiance
struggling with the confusion in his face.
"I believe," stammered Brantain, "I see that I
have stayed too 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 not perceive that
she was extending her hand to him, her presence of mind had not completely
deserted her; but she could not have trusted herself to speak.
"Hang me if I saw him sitting there, Nattie! I know it's
deuced awkward for you. But I hope you'll forgive me this once--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
answered coldly, in self-justification. "We came in the side way. He went
upstairs and I came in here hoping to find you. The explanation is simple
enough and ought to satisfy you that the misadventure was unavoidable. But do
say that you forgive me, 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 ever forgive you."
At that next reception which she and Brantain had been talking
about she approached the young man with a delicious frankness 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 and walked away with him, seeking
a retired corner, a ray of hope mingled with the almost comical misery of his
expression. She was 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, and believed things" --hope was plainly gaining the
ascendancy over misery in Brantain's round, guileless face--"Of course, I
know it is nothing to you, but for my own sake I do want you to understand that
Mr. Harvy is an intimate friend of long standing. Why, we have always been like
cousins--like brother and sister, I may say. He is my brother's most intimate
associate and often fancies that he is entitled to the same privileges 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--of me." Her voice had grown very low and agitated. The
misery had 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, dim corridor that was
lined on either side with tall, graceful plants. They walked slowly to the very
end of it. When they turned to retrace their steps Brantain's face was radiant
and hers was triumphant.
Harvy was among the guests at the wedding; and he sought her out
in a rare moment when she stood alone.
"Your husband," he said, smiling, "has sent me
over to kiss you. "
A quick blush suffused her face and round polished throat.
"I suppose it's natural for a man to feel and act generously on an
occasion of this kind. He tells me he doesn't want his marriage to interrupt
wholly that pleasant intimacy which has existed between you and me. I don't
know what you've been telling him," with an insolent smile, "but he
has sent me here to kiss you."
She felt like a chess player who, by the clever handling of his
pieces, sees the game taking the course intended. Her eyes were bright and
tender with a smile as they glanced up into his; and her lips looked hungry for
the kiss which they invited.
"But, you know," he went on quietly, "I didn't
tell him so, it would have seemed ungrateful, but I can tell you. I've stopped
kissing women; it's dangerous."
Well, she had Brantain and his million left. A person can't have
everything in this world; and it was a little unreasonable of her to expect it.
-THE END-
Kate Chopin's short story: The Kiss
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