“Then I hope you were moved to give of your substance to the poor.”
“Well, I haven’t contributed anything yet.”
Leighton’s speech had been praised generously by his friends, and the newspapers had said a good word for it. One of them was carrying an extract from it in large black type in a conspicuous place at the head of its editorial page. He was aware that he awakened in Zelda Dameron a certain antagonism; she did not approve of him. He was not conceited, but her attitude irritated him.
“You have a very good voice for speaking.” Then, after a pause--“My uncle says so.”
“And I’ll say, on my own account, that you don’t make gestures,--trying to get things out of the air, like a _prestidigitateur_. I haven’t heard many speeches, but most of the orators I have heard have been tiresome.”
“Oh, you weren’t so dreadfully tiresome! I have heard a great many that were far more depressing. But there was one thing that occurred to me--”
“It seemed to me, as you stood there talking to that theater full of solemn people, that you must be awfully good; and I felt almost sorry for you.”
She said this with her eyes bent upon him seriously, and his face flushed. He replied quickly:
“Of course it was assumed. It was a necessity, a part of the game, as we may say. I had been cast for the part, and had to give the best imitation possible.”
“To be sure. I suppose we all have to play a part sometimes,” she said. Her words carried no sympathy, but seemed to express a conviction about which there was no debating, one way or another.
He said nothing, feeling uneasy and uncertain of his ground. She waited a moment and then went on:
“There are things I should like to do if I were good, awfully good. I should like to go about among the poor with little baskets of jelly, and bottles of home-made currant wine, and some real home-made bread of my own baking, and bestow them upon the worthy poor; but I never could make up my mind to do it. I think the idea of giving tickets to tramps, so they may go to the charity society office for inspection before they are given a chance to saw a cord or two of wood before breakfast, is hideously un-Christian. I don’t like your idea of making a business of philanthropy.”