Really, I did not so much wonder at it myself sometimes when I saw Kitty’s pale cheeks flush with that delicious pink, her wide hazel eyes deepen and glow, her little face light up with elfish mirth, and her round, childish figure poise itself in some coquettish attitude.  Then she had such absurd little hands, with short fingers and babyish dimples, such tiny feet, and such a wealth of crinkled dark-brown hair—­such bewitching little helpless ways, too, a fashion of throwing herself appealingly on your compassion which no man on earth could resist!  At bottom she was a self-reliant, independent little soul, but no mortal man ever found that out:  Kitty was far too wise.

Of course, as soon as I saw Kitty I thought of the Jook.  Would he or wouldn’t he?  On the whole, I was rather afraid he wouldn’t, for Kitty’s laugh sometimes rang out a little too loud, and Kitty’s spirits sometimes got the better of her and set her frisking like a kitten, and I was afraid the modest sense of propriety which was one of the Jook’s strong points would not survive it.  However, I concluded to risk it, but just here a sudden and unforeseen obstacle checked my triumphant course.

“Mr. Warriner,” I said sweetly (I was always horribly afraid I should call him Mr. Jook, but I never did), “I want to introduce you to my friend, Miss Grey.”

The Jook looked at me with his most placid smile, and replied blandly, “Thank you very much, but I’d rather not.”

Did any one ever hear of such a man?  I understood his reasons well enough, though he did not take the trouble to explain them:  it was only exclusiveness gone mad.  And he prided himself upon his race and breeding, and considered our American men boors!

After that I nearly gave up his case as hopeless, and devoted myself to Kitty, whom I really believe the Jook did not know by sight after having been for nearly a week in the same house with her.

Kitty once or twice mildly insinuated her desire to know him.  “He has such a nice face,” she said plaintively, “and such lovely little curly brown whiskers!  He is the only man in the house worth looking at, but if I happen to come up when he is talking to you, he instantly disappears.  He must think me very ugly.”

It was really very embarrassing to me, for of course I could not tell her that the Jook had declined the honor of an introduction.  I knew, as well as if she had told me so, that Kitty in her secret heart accused me of a mean and selfish desire to keep him all to myself, but I was obliged meekly to endure the obloquy, undeserved as it was.  Koenigin used to go into fits of laughter at my dilemma, and just at this period my admiration of the Jook went down to the lowest ebb.  “He is a selfish, conceited creature!” I exclaimed in my wrath.  “I really believe he thinks that bewitching little Kitty would fall in love with him forthwith if he submitted to an introduction.  Oh, I do wish he knew what we thought of him! Why doesn’t he listen outside of ventilators?”