MacBirney, smarting with the stings of jealousy, found no outlet for his feeling until he was left alone with his wife. It was after eleven o'clock when Alice, reading in her sitting-room, heard her husband try the door connecting from his apartments. Finding it bolted, as usual, MacBirney walked out on the loggia and came into her room through the east door which she had left open for the sea-breeze. He was smoking and he sat down on a divan. Alice laid her book on her knee.
It was a moment before he spoke. "You seem to be making Kimberly a pretty intimate member of the family," he began.
"Oh, do you think so? Charles or Robert?"
"You know very well who I mean."
"If you mean Robert, he is a familiar in every family circle around the lake. It is his way, isn't it? I don't suppose he is more intimate here than at Lottie's, is he? Or at Dolly's or Imogene's?"
"They are his sisters," returned MacBirney, curtly.
"Lottie isn't. And I thought you wanted me rather to cultivate Robert, didn't you, Walter?" asked Alice indifferently.
He was annoyed to be reminded of the fact but made no reply.
"Robert is a delightfully interesting man," continued Alice recklessly, "don't you think so?"
MacBirney returned to the quarrel from another quarter. "Do you know how much money you have spent here at Cedar Lodge in the last four months?"