Athalie

"What kind of argument is that? Socialistic? I merely know it is

unbaked. What theory is it, dear?"

[Illustration: "Beside her, eager, happy, flattered, walked C. Bailey,

Jr., very conscious that he was being envied."] "I don't know what it is. It seems reasonable to me, mother."

"Clive, are you trying to make yourself sentimentalise over that

Greensleeve woman?"

"I told you that I am not in love with her; nor is she with me. It's

an agreeable and happy comradeship; that's all."

"People think it something more," retorted his mother, curtly.

"That's their fault, not Athalie's and not mine."

"Then, why do you go about with her? Why? You know girls enough,

don't you?"

"Plenty. They resemble one another to the verge of monotony."

"Is that the way you regard the charming, well-born, well-bred,

clever, cultivated girls of your own circle, whose parents were the

friends of your parents?"

"Oh, mother, I like them of course.... But there's something about a

business girl--a girl in the making--that is more amusing, more

companionable, more interesting. A business girl seems to wear better.

She's better worth talking to, listening to,--it's better fun to go

about with her, see things with her, discuss things--"

"What on earth are you talking about! It's perfect babble; it's

nonsense! If you really believe you have a penchant for sturdy and

rather grubby worthiness unadorned you are mistaken. The inclination

you have is merely for a pretty face and figure. I know you. If I

don't, who does! You're rather a fastidious young man, even finicky,

and very, very much accustomed to the best and only the best. Don't

talk to me about your disinterested admiration for a working girl. You

haven't anything in common with her, and you never could have. And

you'd better be very careful not to make a fool of yourself."

"How?"

"As all men are likely to do at your callow age."

"Fall in love with her?"

"You can call it that. The result is always deplorable. And if she's a

smart, selfish, and unscrupulous girl, the result may be more

deplorable still, as far as we all are concerned. What is the need of

my saying this? You are grown; you know it already. Up to the present

time you've kept fastidiously clear of such entanglements. You say you

have, and your father and I believe you. So what is the use of

beginning now,--creating an unfortunate impression in your own set,

spending your time with such a girl as this Greensleeve girl--"