"I did try to be a good son. I could have been far better.

It's a bitter thing to realise at such a time.

"And I had so much to say to him. I cannot understand that I

can never say it now.... Athalie dear, my mother wishes me to

take her abroad. I made arrangements yesterday at the Cunard

office. We sail Saturday. Could I see you for a moment before

I go?

"CLIVE."

To which she replied: "I shall be here every evening."

He came Friday night looking very sallow and thin in his black

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clothes. Catharine, who was sewing by the centre table, rose to shake

hands with him in sympathetic silence, then went away to her bedroom,

where, once or twice she caught herself whistling some gay refrain of

the moment, and was obliged to check herself.

He had taken Athalie's slender hands and was standing by the sofa,

looking intently at her.

"That night," he said with an effort, "you sent me home--saying that I

was needed."

"Yes, Clive."

"How did you know?"

"I knew."

"Did you see--anything?"

"Yes, dear," she said under her breath.

"Did you see him?"

"Yes."

"Tell me," he said, but his lips scarcely moved to form the words he

uttered.

"I recognised him at once. I had never forgotten him.... It is

difficult to explain how I knew that he was not--what we call living."

"But you knew?"

"Yes," she said gently.

"He--did he speak?" The young fellow turned away with a brusque,

hopeless gesture.

"God," he muttered--"and I couldn't either see or hear him!"

"He did not speak, Clive." The boy looked up at her, his haggard

features working.

She said: "When I first noticed him he was looking at you. Then he

caught my eye. Clive--it was this time as it had been before--when I

was twelve years old--his expression became so sweet and winning--like

yours when I amuse you--and you laugh at me but--like me--"

"Oh, Athalie--I can't seem to endure it! I--I can't be reconciled--"

His head fell forward; she put her arms around him and drew his face

against her breast.

"I know," she whispered. "I also have passed that way."

After a few moments he lifted his head, looked around, almost

fearfully.

"Where was it that he stood, Athalie?"

She hesitated, then took one of his hands in hers and he followed her

until she stopped between the sofa and the fireplace.




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