ered him.

Why should he not find pleasure in giving to such a girl as
this?--giving without scruple--unscrupulous too, perhaps, concerning
the effect his generosity might have on a cynical world which looked
on out of wearied and incredulous eyes; unscrupulous, perhaps,
concerning the effect his too lavish kindness might have on a young
girl unaccustomed to men and the ways of men.

But there was no harm in him; he was very much self-assured of that.
He had been too carefully brought up--far too carefully reared. And
had people ventured to question him, and had they escaped alive his
righteous violence, they would have learned that there really was not
the remotest chance that his mother was in danger of becoming what she
most dreaded in all the world.

* * * * *

The fire burned lower; they sat watching it together, her flushed
cheek against the fur of his coat, his arm extended along the back of
the chair behind her.

"Well," he said, "this has been another happy evening."

She stirred in assent, and he felt the lightest possible pressure
against him.

"Are you contented, Athalie?"

"Yes."

After a moment he glanced at his watch. It was three o'clock. So he
rose, placed the screen over the fireplace, and then came back to
where she now stood, looking very intently at the opposite wall. And
he turned to see what interested her. But there seemed to be nothing
in particular just there.

"What are you staring at, little ghost-seer?" he asked, passing his
hand under her arm; and stepped back, surprised, as she freed herself
with a quick, nervous movement, looked at him, then averted her head.

"What is the matter, Athalie?" he inquired.

"Nothing.... Don't touch me, Clive."

"No, of course not.... But what in the world--"

"Nothing.... Don't ask me." Presently he saw her very slowly move her
head and look back at the empty corner of the room; and remain so,
motionless for a moment. Then she turned with a sigh, came quietly to
him; and he drew her hand through his arm.

"Of what were you thinking, Athalie?"

"Of nothing."

"Did you think you saw something over there?"

She was silent.

"What were you looking at?" he insisted.

"Nothing.... I don't care to talk just now--"

"Tell me, Athalie!"

"No.... No, I don't want to, Clive--"

"I wish to know!"

"I can't--there is nothing to tell you--" she laid one hand on his
coat, almost pleadingly, and looked up at h