arling, all goes well."

He smiled in sympathy with her gaiety of heart, but the slight shadow
returned to his face again. Watching it she said:

"All things shall come to us, Clive."

"All things," he said, gravely,--"except fulfilment."

"That, too," she murmured.

"No, Athalie."

"Yes," she said under her breath.

He only lifted her ringless hand to his lips in hopeless silence; but
she looked up at the cloudless sky and out over sunlit harvest fields
and where grain and fruit were ripening, and she smiled, closing her
white hand and pressing it gently against his lips.

Connor met them at the door and shouldered Clive's trunk and other
luggage; then Athalie slipped her arm through his and took him into
the autumn glow of her garden.

"Miracle after miracle, Clive--from the enchantment of July roses to
the splendour of dahlia, calendula, and gladioluses. Such a
wonder-house no man ever before gave to any woman.... There is not one
stalk or leaf or blossom or blade of grass that is not my intimate
and tender friend, my confidant, my dear preceptor, my companion
beloved and adored.

[Illustration: "And then her hands were in his and she was looking
into his beloved eyes once more."]

"Do you notice that the grapes on the trellis are turning dark? And
the peaches are becoming so big and heavy and rosy. They will be ripe
before very long."

"You must have a greenhouse," he said.

"_We_ must," she admitted demurely.

He turned toward her with much of his old gaiety, laughing: "Do you
know," he said, "I believe you are pretending to be in love with me!"

"That's all it is, Clive, just pretence, and the natural depravity of
a flirt. When I go back to town I'll forget you ever existed--unless
you go with me."

"I'm wondering," he said, "what we had better do in town."

"I'm not wondering; I know."

He looked at her questioningly. Then she told him about her visit to
Michael and the apartment.

"There is no other place in the world that I care to live
in--excepting this," she said. "Couldn't we live there, Clive, when we
go to town?"

After a moment he said: "Yes."

"Would you care to?" she asked wistfully. Then smiled as she met his
eyes.

"So I shall give up business," she said, "and that tower apartment.
There's a letter here now asking if I desire to sublet it; and as I
had to renew my lease last June, that is what I shall do--if you'll
let me live in the place you made for me so long ago."