On the grey wall nasturtiums blazed; long stretches of brilliant
portulaca edged the herbaceous borders; clusters of auratum lilies
hung in the transparent shadow of Cydonia and Spirea; and the first
great dahlias faced her in maroon splendour from the spiked thickets
along the wall.
Once or twice she went to town on shopping bent, and on one of these
occasions impulse took her to the apartment furnished for her so long
ago by Clive.
She had not meant to go in, merely intended to pass the house, speak
to Michael, perhaps, if indeed, he still presided over door and
elevator.
And there he was, outside the door on a chair, smoking his clay pipe
and surveying the hot and silent street, where not even a sparrow
stirred.
"Michael," she said, smiling.
For a moment he did not know her, then: "God's glory!" he said
huskily, getting to his feet--"is it the sweet face o' Miss
Greensleeve or the angel in her come back f'r to bless us all?"
She gave him her hand, and he held it and looked at her, earnestly,
wistfully; then, with the flashing change of his race, the grin broke
out: "I'm that proud to be remembered by the likes o' you, Miss Athalie!
Are ye well, now?--an' happy? I thank God for that! I am
substantial--with my respects, ma'am, f'r the kind inquiry. And Hafiz?
Glory be, was there ever such a cat now? D'ye mind the day we tuk him
in a bashket?--an' the sufferin' yowls of the poor, dear creature.
Sure I'm that glad to hear he's well;--and manny mice to him, Miss
Athalie!"
Athalie laughed: "I suppose all your tenants are away in the country,"
she ventured.
"Barrin' wan or two, Miss. Ye know the young Master will suffer no one
in your own apartment."
"Is it still unoccupied, Michael?"
"Deed it is, Miss. Would ye care f'r to look around. There is nothing
changed there. I dust it meself."
"Yes," said the girl in a low voice, "I will look at it."
So Michael took her up in the lift, unlocked the door for her, and
then with the fine instinct of his race, forbore to follow her.
The shades in the square living-room were lowered; she raised one. And
the dim, golden past took shadowy shape again before her eyes.
[Illustration: "'Michael,' she said, smiling."] She moved slowly from one object to another, touching caressingly
where memory was tenderest. She looked at the furniture, the
pictures,--at the fireplace where in her mind's eye she could see
him bending to light the first fire that had ever blazed there.