"You mark my word. He is a man swayed by
the emotions of the moment. He has feeling, yes--but no heart; he has
certain inborn principles, but they are racial rather than ethical. His
is the code of _Noblesse oblige_, not of the Golden Rule. In a point of
honor he is irreproachable, but it is he, himself, who defines the
boundaries of his code."
He paused a moment and continued in a more personal tone: "I don't know
you very well, Miss Randolph, but you are a girl from home. And--excuse
my frankness--you are one of our great heiresses. I am a stranger to
you, and that is why I am going to say something--perhaps all the more
forcefully because I have only a racial and not a personal interest: but
between marrying Giovanni Sansevero--or that Austrian over yonder--or
the golden-headed ornament on your right, and such a man as John Derby,
no woman with an ounce of sense could for one minute hesitate. The
first, by the gift of kings, are noblemen, but John over there, by the
grace of God, is a _man_!"
Nina was so deeply stirred by his words that she sat for a little while
quite motionless, looking down at her hands, which were clasped in her
lap. Then, before she either looked up or answered, the women left the
table.
In the drawing-room, as the other women lighted their cigarettes, Nina
stood leaning her cheek on her hand as it rested against the mantel--and
for some time she gazed down into the fire, while Porter's words echoed
and reechoed through her mind.
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