Athalie

Clive's enforced idleness had secretly humiliated him and made him

restless. Athalie in her tender wisdom understood how it was with him

before he did himself, and she was already deftly guiding his balked

energy into a brand new channel, the same being a bucolic one.

At first he had demurred, alleging total ignorance of husbandry; and,

seated on the sill of an open window and looking down at him in the

garden, she tormented him to her heart's content: "Ignorant of husbandry!" she mimicked,--"when any husband I ever heard

of could go to school to you and learn what a real husband ought to

be! Why will you pretend to be so painfully modest, Clive, when you

are really secretly pleased with yourself and entirely convinced that,

in you, the world might discover a living pattern of model

domesticity!"

"I'm glad you think so--"

"Think! If I were only as certain of anything else! Never had I

dreamed that any man could become so cowed, so spiritless, so

perfectly house and yard broken--"

"If I come upstairs," he said, "I'll settle you!"

Leaning from the window overlooking the garden she lazily defied him;

turned up her dainty nose at him; mocked at him until he flung aside

the morning paper and rose, bent on her punishment.

"Oh, Clive, don't!" she pleaded, leaning low from the sill. "I won't

tease you any more,--and this gown is fresh--"

"I'll come up and freshen it!" he threatened.

"Please don't rumple me. I'll come down if you like. Shall I?"

"All right, darling," he said, resuming his newspaper and cigarette.

She came, seated herself demurely beside him, twitched his newspaper

until he cast an ominous glance at his tormentor.

"Dear," she said, "I simply can't let you alone; you are so bland and

self-satisfied--"

"Athalie--if you persist in tormenting me--"

"I torment you? I? An humble accessory in the scenery set for you?

I?--a stage property fashioned merely for the hero of the drama to sit

upon--"

"All right! I'll do that now!--"

But she nestled close to him, warding off wrath with both arms

clasping his, and looking up at him out of winning eyes in which but a

tormenting glint remained.

"You wouldn't rumple this very beautiful and brand new gown, would

you, darling? It was so frightfully expensive--"

"I don't care--"

"Oh, but you must care. You must become thrifty and shrewd and

devious and close, or you'll never make a successful farmer--"