"But one does not always work. What else? I remember," he continued, turning to Nelson, "the stories my father used to tell about the Kimberlys--your father, Robert, and especially your Uncle John." Baumann radiated interest in everything American. "Those men were busy men. Not alone sugar-refining, but horses, steamboats, opera-houses, women--always, always some excitement."
"Other times, other manners, Baumann," suggested Nelson. "In those days a fine horse had a national interest; to-day, everybody's horse does his mile in two minutes. The railroads long ago killed the steamboats; newsboys build the opera-houses now; sugar refines itself. Mere money-making, Baumann, has become so absorbing that a Kimberly of this generation doesn't have time to look at a woman."
"Nelson!" protested the good-natured and perspiring German, "no time to look at a woman? That, at least, cannot be true, can it, Robert?"
"Not quite. But I imagine the interest has waned," said Kimberly. "When a man took his life in his hand on such a venture the excitement gave it a double zest--the reflection that you were an outlaw but prepared, if necessary, to pay the price with your life. Nowadays, the husband has fallen lower than the libertine. If you break up his home--he sues you. There is nothing hair-raising in that. Will you dance, Gustav?"
"I want very much to dance. Your women dance better than ours."
"Why, your women dance beautifully. Nelson will find you a partner," suggested Kimberly. "I must hunt up Mrs. Nelson. I have a dance with her, myself."
Alice sat for a moment alone. Among the dancers, Robert Kimberly moved past her with Lottie Nelson on his arm. Alice noticed how handsome and well poised Lottie was on her feet; Kimberly she thought too cold to be an attractive partner.
Within a moment Dolly came back. "I can't find Arthur anywhere."
"He isn't on the floor, Mrs. De Castro."
"No matter, I will let him find me. Isn't it a pretty company? I do love these fresh faces," remarked Dolly, sitting down. "The young people complain of our being exclusive. That is absurd. We have to keep quiet, otherwise why live in the country? Besides, what would be gained by opening the doors?"