He knew that civilisation would lock them out and remain unconcerned
as to what became of them. Doubtless she knew it too, as she sat there
sewing on the frail garment which lay across her knee and singing
blithely under her breath some air with cadence like a berceuse.
* * * * *
During the "Children's Hour" she sat beside him, always quiet; or if
stirred from her revery to a brief exchange of low-voiced words, she
soon relapsed once more into that happy, brooding silence by the
firelight.
Then came dinner, and the awakened gaiety of unquenched spirits; then
the blessed evening hours with him.
But the last hour of these she called her hour; and always laid
aside her book or sewing, and slipped from the couch to the floor at
his feet, laying her head against his knees.
* * * * *
Snow came in December; and Christmas followed. They kept the mystic
festival alone together; and Athalie had a tiny tree lighted in the
room between hers and Clive's, and hung it with toys and picture
books.
It was very pretty in its tinsel and tinted globes; and its faint
light glimmered on the walls and dainty furniture of the dim pink
room.
Afterward Athalie laid away tinsel and toy, wrapping all safely in
tissue, as though to be kept secure and fresh for another
Christmas--the most wonderful that any girl could dream of. And
perhaps it was to be even more wonderful than Athalie had dreamed.
* * * * *
December turned very cold. The ice thickened; and she skated with
Clive on Spring Pond. The ice also remained through January and
February that winter; but after December had ended Athalie skated no
more.
Clive, unknown to her, had sent for a Shaker cloak and hood of
scarlet; and when it arrived Athalie threw back her lovely head and
laughed till the tears dimmed her eyes.
"All the same," he said, "you don't look much older in it than you
looked in your red hood and cloak the first day I ever set eyes on
you."
"You poor darling!--as though even you could push back the hands of
Time! It's the funniest and sweetest thing you ever did--to send for
this red, hooded cloak."
However she wore it whenever she ventured out with him on foot or in
the sleigh which he had bought. Once, coming home, she was still
wearing it when Mrs. Connor brought to them two peach turnovers.
A fire had been lighted in the ancient stove; and they went out to the
sun-parlour,--once the bar--and sat in the same old arm-chairs exactly
as they had been seated that night so long ago; and there they ate
their peach turnovers, their enchanted eyes meeting, striving to
realise it all, and the intricate ways of Destiny and Chance and Fate.