A rather tall man stepped in. He wore a snow-dusted, fur-lined

overcoat and carried in his white-gloved hands a top hat and a

silver-hooked walking stick.

He had made a mistake, of course; and Athalie hastily lowered her feet

and turned half around in her chair again to meet his expected

apologies; and then continued in that attitude, rigid and silent.

"Miss Greensleeve?" he asked.

She rose, mechanically, the heavy lustrous braids framing a face as

white as a flower.

"Is that you, Athalie!" he asked, hesitating.

Advertisement..

"C. Bailey, Junior," she said under her breath.

There was a moment's pause, then he stepped toward her and, very

slowly, she offered a hand still faintly fragrant with "cream of

lilacs."

A damp, chilly wind came from the corridor; she went over and closed

the door, stood for a few seconds with her back against it looking at

him.

Now under the mask of manhood she could see the boy she had once

known,--under the short dark moustache the clean-cut mouth unchanged.

Only his cheeks seemed firmer and leaner, and the eyes were now the

baffling eyes of a man.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, quite unconscious of her

own somewhat intimate attire, so entirely had the shock of surprise

possessed her.

"Athalie, you have not changed a bit--only you are so much prettier

than I realised," he said illogically.... "How did I know you lived

here? I didn't until we bought this row of flats last week--my

father's company--I'm in it now.... And glancing over the list of

tenants I saw your name."

She said nothing.

"Do you mind my coming? I was going to write and ask you. But walking

in this way rather appealed to me. Do you mind?"

"No."

"May I stay and chat for a moment? I'm on my way to the opera. May I

stay a few minutes?"

She nodded, not yet sufficiently composed to talk very much.

He glanced about him for a place to lay coat and hat; then slipping

out of the soft fur, disclosed himself in evening dress.

She had dropped into the arm-chair by the radiator; and, as he came

forward, stripping off his white gloves, suddenly she became conscious

of her bare, slippered feet and drew them under the edges of her

negligee.

"I was not expecting anybody,--" she began, and checked herself.

Certainly she did not care to rise, now, and pass before him in search

of more suitable clothing. Therefore the less said the better.




Most Popular