e. There are some lovely walks
and drives." She said this archly, naively, suggestively, her bright
face lit with an intelligence that seemed perfection.

"Well--such being the case!" he smiled, "and meanwhile--"

"Oh, meanwhile you just have to wait. You see how things are." She
nodded her head towards an inside room where Mrs. Channing was lying
down with a slight headache. "Mamma doesn't leave me very often."

Eugene did not know exactly how to take Christina. He had never
encountered this attitude before. Her directness, in connection with so
much talent, such real ability, rather took him by surprise. He did not
expect it--did not think she would confess affection for him; did not
know just what she meant by speaking in the way she did of the bungalow
and Florizel. He was flattered, raised in his own self-esteem. If such a
beautiful, talented creature as this could confess her love for him,
what a personage he must be. And she was thinking of freer
conditions--just what?

He did not want to press the matter too closely then and she was not
anxious to have him do so--she preferred to be enigmatic. But there was
a light of affection and admiration in her eye which made him very proud
and happy with things just as they were.

As she said, there was little chance for love-making under conditions
then existing. Her mother was with her most of the time. Christina
invited Eugene to come and hear her sing at the Philharmonic Concerts;
so once in a great ball-room at the Waldorf-Astoria and again in the
imposing auditorium of Carnegie Hall and a third time in the splendid
auditorium of the Arion Society, he had the pleasure of seeing her walk
briskly to the footlights, the great orchestra waiting, the audience
expectant, herself arch, assured--almost defiant, he thought, and so
beautiful. When the great house thundered its applause he was basking in
one delicious memory of her.

"Last night she had her arms about my neck. Tonight when I call and we
are alone she will kiss me. That beautiful, distinguished creature
standing there bowing and smiling loves me and no one else. If I were to
ask her she would marry me--if I were in a position and had the means."

"If I were in a position--" that thought cut him, for he knew that he
was not. He could not marry her. In reality she would not have him
knowing how little he made--or would she? He wondered.

CHAPTER XXIII

Towards the end of spring Eugene concluded he