Athalie

"To think," she murmured to herself, "that you should ever care for me

in that way, too.... It is wonderful, wonderful--and very sweet--if it

does not make you unhappy. Does it?"

"No."

"It's so dear of you to love me that way, Clive. Could--could I do

anything--about it?"

"How?"

"Would you care to kiss me?" she asked with a faint smile. And turned

her face.

Chaste, cool and fresh as a flower her young mouth met his, lingered;

then, still smiling, and a trifle flushed and shy, she laid her cheek

against his shoulder, and her hands in his, calm in her security.

"You see," she said, "you need not worry over me. I am glad you are in

love with me."