And in the mirror she saw her lips, scarcely parted, more vivid than

she had ever seen them, and her eyes two wells of azure splendour; saw

the smooth young bosom rise and fall; felt her heart, rapid,

imperious, beating the "colours" into her cheeks.

Suddenly, as she stood there, she heard him come in;--heard the

astonished and joyous exclamations--Cecil's bantering, cynical voice,

Welter's loud welcome. She pressed both hands to her hot cheeks,

stared at herself a moment, then turned and walked leisurely toward

the living-room.

In her heart a voice was crying, crying: "Let the world see so that

there may be no mistake! This man who was friendless is my friend. Let

there be no mistake that he is more or less than that." But she only

said with a quick smile, and offering her hand: "I am so glad to see

you, Clive. I am so glad you came." And stood, still smiling, looking

into the lean, sun-tanned face, under the concentrated eyes of her

friends around them both.

For a second it was difficult for him to speak; but only she saw the

slight quiver of the mouth.

"You are--quite the same," he said; "no more beautiful, no less. Time

is not the essence of your contract with Venus."

"Oh, Clive! And I am twenty-four! Tell me--are you a trifle

grey!--just above the temples?--or is it the light?"

"He's grey," said Cecil; "don't flatter him, Athalie. And Oh, Lord,

what a thinness!"

Peggy Brooks, professionally curious, said naively: "Are you still

rather full of bacilli, Mr. Bailey? And would you mind if I took a

drop of blood from you some day?"

"Not at all," said Clive, laughing away the strain that still fettered

his speech a little. "You may have quarts if you like, Dr. Brooks."

"How was the shooting?" inquired Welter, bustling up like a judge at a

bench-show when the awards are applauded.

"Oh--there was shooting--of course," said Clive with an involuntary

and half-humorous glance at Captain Dane.

"Good nigger hunting," nodded Dane. "Unknown angles, Welter. You ought

to run down there."

"Any incomparable Indian maidens wearing nothing but ornaments of

gold?" inquired Cecil.

"That is partly true," said Clive, laughing.

"If you put a period after 'nothing,' I suppose," suggested Peggy.

"About that."

He turned to Athalie; but her silent, smiling gaze confused him so

that he forgot what he had meant to say, and stood without a word amid

the chatter that rose and ebbed about him.




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