Athalie

"I wish you'd open that letter and read it," he said. "It's my

credential. Date and postmark plead for me."

But she had other plans for its unsealing and its perusal, and said

so.

"Aren't you going to read it, Athalie?"

"Yes--when you go."

"Why?"

"Because--it will make your visit seem a little longer," she said

frankly.

"Athalie, are you really glad to see me?"

She looked up as though he were jesting, and caught in his eye another

gleam of that sudden seriousness which had already slightly confused

her. For a moment only, both felt the least sense of constraint, then

the instinct that had forbidden her to admit any significance in his

seriousness, parted her lips with that engaging smile which he had

begun to know so well, and to await with an expectancy that approached

fascination.

"Peach turnovers," she said. "Do you remember? If I had not been glad

to see you in those days I would not have gone into the kitchen to

bring you one.... And I have already told you that I am unchanged....

Wait! I am changed.... I am very much wealthier." And she laughed her

delicious, unembarrassed laugh of a child.

He laughed, too, then shot a glance around the shabby room.

"What are you doing, Athalie?" he asked lightly.

"The same."

"I remember you told me. You are stenographer and typist."

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I am with Wahlbaum, Grossman & Co."

"Are they decent to you?"

"Very."

He thought a moment, hesitated, appeared as though about to speak,

then seemed to reject the idea whatever it might have been.

"You live with your sisters, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

He planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, his head on his

hands, apparently buried in thought.

After a little while: "C. Bailey, Junior," she ventured, "you must not

let me keep you too long."

"What?" He lifted his head.

"You are on your way to the opera, aren't you?"

"Am I? That's so.... I'd rather stay here if you'll let me."

"But the opera!" she protested with emphasis.

"What do I care for the opera?"

"Don't you?"

He laughed: "No; do you?"

"I'm mad about it."

Still laughing he said: "Then, in my place, you wouldn't give up the

opera for me, would you, Athalie?"