Athalie - Page 57/222

"Why not come here, Athalie?" he said caressingly.

"I don't know. It would be heavenly. Do you want me to, Clive?"

"Yes. And I want you to begin to put away part of your salary, too.

You might as well begin, now. You will be free from the burden of

rent, free from--various burdens--"

"I--can't--let you--"

"I want to!"

"Why?"

"Because it gives me pleasure--"

"No; because you desire to give me pleasure! That is the reason!"

she exclaimed with partly restrained passion--"because you are

you--and there is nobody like you in all the world--in all the

world, Clive!--"

To her emotion his own flashed a quick, warm response. He looked down

at her, deeply touched, his pride gratified, his boyish vanity

satisfied. Always had the simplicity and candour of her quick and

ardent gratitude corroborated and satisfied whatever was in him of

youthful self-esteem. Everything about her seemed to minister to

it--her attention in public places was undisguisedly for him alone;

her beauty, her superb youth and health, the admiring envy of other

people--all these flattered him.

Why should he not find pleasure in giving to such a girl as

this?--giving without scruple--unscrupulous too, perhaps, concerning

the effect his generosity might have on a cynical world which looked

on out of wearied and incredulous eyes; unscrupulous, perhaps,

concerning the effect his too lavish kindness might have on a young

girl unaccustomed to men and the ways of men.

But there was no harm in him; he was very much self-assured of that.

He had been too carefully brought up--far too carefully reared. And

had people ventured to question him, and had they escaped alive his

righteous violence, they would have learned that there really was not

the remotest chance that his mother was in danger of becoming what she

most dreaded in all the world.

* * * * *

The fire burned lower; they sat watching it together, her flushed

cheek against the fur of his coat, his arm extended along the back of

the chair behind her.

"Well," he said, "this has been another happy evening."

She stirred in assent, and he felt the lightest possible pressure

against him.

"Are you contented, Athalie?"

"Yes."

After a moment he glanced at his watch. It was three o'clock. So he

rose, placed the screen over the fireplace, and then came back to

where she now stood, looking very intently at the opposite wall. And

he turned to see what interested her. But there seemed to be nothing

in particular just there.