* * * * *
He wrote her from the steamer twice, the letters being mailed from
Plymouth; then he wrote once from London, once from Paris; later again
from Switzerland, where he had found it cooler, he said, than
anywhere else during that torrid summer.
[Illustration: "One lovely morning in May she arose early in order to
write to Clive."] Winifred Stuart and her mother had joined them for a motor trip
through Dalmatia. He mentioned it in a letter to Athalie, but after
that he did not refer to them again. In fact he did not write again
for a month or two.
It proved to be a scorching summer in New York. May ended in a blast
of unseasonable weather, cooling off for a week or two in June, but
the furnace heat of July was terrible for the poor and for the
horses--both of which we have always with us.
Also, for Athalie, it seemed to be turning into one of those curious,
threatening years which begin with every promise but which end without
fulfilment, and in perplexity and care. She had known such years; she
already recognised the symptoms of changing weather. She seemed to be
conscious of premonitions in everybody and everything. Little
vexations and slight disappointments increased; simple plans
miscarried for no reason at all apparently.
Like one who still feels a fair wind blowing yet looking aloft, sees
the uneasy weather-cock veer and veer in varying flaws, so she,
sensitive and fine in mind and body, gradually became aware of the
trend of things; felt the premonition of the distant change in the
atmosphere--sensed it gathering vaguely, indefinitely disquieting.
One lovely morning in May she arose early in order to write to Clive.
Then, her long letter accomplished and safely mailed, she went
downtown to business, still delicately aglow, exhilarated as always
by her hour of communion with him.
Mr. Wahlbaum, as usual, received her with the jolly and kindly humour
which always characterised him, and they had their usual friendly,
half bantering chat while she was arranging the papers which his
secretary had laid on her desk.
All the morning she took dictation; the soft wind fluttered the
curtains; sparrows chirped noisily; the sky was very blue; Mr.
Wahlbaum smoked steadily.
And when the lunch hour arrived he did a thing which he had never
before done; he asked Athalie to lunch with him.
Which so completely astonished her that she found herself going down
in the private lift with him before she realised that she was going at
all.
The luncheon proved to be very simple but very good. There were a
number of other women in the ladies' annex of the Department
Club,--nice looking people, quiet, and well dressed. Mr. Wahlbaum also
was very quiet, very considerate, very attentive, and almost gravely
courteous. Their conversation concerned business. He offered Athalie
no cocktail and no wine, but a jug of chilled cider was set at her
elbow and she found it delicious. Mr. Wahlbaum drank tea, very weak.