And it seems to give us both so much pleasure – all you do for me… But please don't ask me to live without paying rent – "
The limousine drew up by the curb; Clive jumped out, aided Athalie to descend; and started for the grilled door where a light glimmered.
"This is not the house!" exclaimed Athalie, stopping short. "Where are you taking me, Clive?"
"Come on," he said, "I merely want to show you how I've had the new apartment house built – "
"But – it's too late! What an odd idea, taking me to inspect a new apartment house at two in the morning! Are you really serious?"
He nodded and rang. A sleepy night porter opened, recognised Clive, and touched his hat.
"Take us to the top, Mike," he said.
"Have you the keys, sorr?"
"Yes."
They entered the cage and it shot up to the top floor.
"Wait for us, Mike."… And to Athalie: "This is Michael Daly who will do anything you ask of him – won't you, Mike?"
"I will that, sorr," said the big Irishman, tipping his hat to Athalie.
"But, Clive," she persisted, bewildered, still clinging to his arm, "I don't understand why – "
"Little goose, hush!" he replied, subduing the excitement in his voice and fitting the key into the door.
"One moment, Athalie," he added, "until I light up. Now!"
She entered the lighted hallway, walking on a soft green carpet, and turned, obeying the guiding pressure of his arm, into a big square room which sprang into brilliant illumination as he found the switch.
Green and gold were the hangings and prevailing colours; there were rugs, wide, comfortable chairs and lounges, bookcases, a picture or two in deep glowing colours, a baby-grand piano, and an open fire loaded for business.
"Is it done in good taste, Athalie?" he asked.
"It is charming. Is it yours, Clive?"
He laughed, slipped his arm under hers and led her along the hallway, opening door after door; and first she was invited to observe a very modern and glistening bathroom, then a bedroom all done in grey and rose with dainty white furniture and a white-bear rug beside the bed.
"Why this is a woman's room!" she exclaimed, puzzled.
He only laughed and drew her along the hall, showing her another bedroom with twin beds, a maid's room, a big clothes press, and finally, a completely furnished kitchen, very modern with its porcelain baseboard and tiled walls.
"What do you think of all this, Athalie?" he insisted.
"Why it's exquisite, Clive. Whose is it?"
They walked back to the square living-room. He said, teasingly: "Do you remember, the first time I saw you after those four years, – that first evening when I came in to surprise you and found you sitting by the radiator – in your nightie, Athalie?"
"Yes," she said, laughing and blushing as she always did when he tormented her with that souvenir.
"And I said that you ought to have an open fire. And a cat. Didn't I?"
"Yes."
"There's your fire, Athalie;" he drew a match from his tiny flat gold case, struck it, and lighted the nest of pine shavings under the logs; – "and Michael has the cat when you want it."
He drew a big soft arm-chair to the mounting blaze. Athalie stood motionless, staring at the flames, then with a sudden, nervous gesture she sank down on the arm-chair and covered her face with her gloved hands.
He stood waiting, happy and excited, and finally he went over and touched her; and the girl caught his hand convulsively in both of hers and looked up at him with wet eyes.
"How can I do this, Clive? How can I?" she whispered.
"Any brother would do as much for his sister – "
"Oh, Clive! You are different! You are more than that. You know you are. How can I take all this? Will you tell me? How can I live here – this way – "
"Your sisters will be here. You saw their room just now – "
"But what can I tell them? How can I explain? They know we cannot afford such luxury as this?"
"Tell them the rent is the same."
"They won't believe it. They couldn't. They don't understand even now how it is with you and me – that you are so dear and generous and kind just because you are my friend – and no more than my friend… Not that they really believe – anything – unpleasant – of me– but – but – "
"What do you care – as long as it isn't so?" he said, coolly.
"I don't care. Except that it weakens my authority over them… Catharine is very impulsive, and she dearly loves a good time – and she is becoming sullen with me when I try to advise her or curb her… And it's so with Doris, too… I'd like to keep my influence… But if they ever really began to believe that between you and me there was – more – than friendship, I – I don't know what they might feel free to think – or do – "
"They're older than you."
"Yes. But I seem to have the authority, – or I did have."
They looked into the leaping flames; he threw open his fur coat and seated himself on the padded arm of her chair.
"All I know is," he said, "that it gives me the deepest and most enduring happiness to do things for you. When the architect planned this house I had him design a place for you. Ultimately all the row of old houses are to be torn down and replaced by modern apartments with moderate rentals. So you will have to move anyway sooner or later. Why not come here now?"
Half unconsciously she had rested her cheek against the fur lining of his coat where it fell against his arm. He looked down at her, touched her hair – a thing he had never thought of doing before.
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