"Then call for me at eight. We'll have breakfast at the French pastry shop. My first lesson's at eleven."

"Great!"

"Now go."

"Say good-night, Evan."

"I will when I am more accustomed to you."

"But try it just for an experiment."

"Well--good-night, Evan."

His name was so sweet on her tongue it required all his self-control to remember his oath. He turned away with a groan.

"Good-night, Corinna."

CHAPTER VIII

EVAN IS RE-ENGAGED

He dreamed of her all night--but not as a sister it is to be feared.

In his dream she was running through the springtime woods with the glorious hair flying, and he was running after her, an endless race without his ever drawing nearer, while the sun shone and the little young leaves twinkled as if in laughter.

He was awake at six and sprang out of bed to see what kind of day it was. The sun was already high over the tops of the buildings to the east, the sky was fleckless, and the empty Park was beaming. His anxiety was relieved. He dressed as slowly as possible in order to kill time, taking care to make no sound that might awaken Charley in the next room.

He was not prepared to make explanations just then.

Notwithstanding all his care he was ready a whole hour too soon, an hour that promised to be endless, for he was completely at a loss what to do with himself; couldn't apply his mind to anything; couldn't sit still. Finally he stole down-stairs, sending his love silently through her door as he pa.s.sed, and started circ.u.mnavigating the Park.

He was subconsciously aware of the splendour of the morning, but saw little of what actually met his eyes. He was too busy with the happenings of the night before. A nasty little doubt tormented him.

He knew he was slightly insane; it was not that; he gloried in his state and pitied the dull clods who had not fire in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s to drive them mad. But here was the rub; would not these same clods have laughed at him had they known of the oath he had taken--would not he have laughed himself yesterday?

It was carried on inside him like an argument; on the one hand the enamoured young man who insisted that the relationship between brother and sister was a holy and beautiful one, on the other hand the matter-of-fact one who said it was all d.a.m.n nonsense; that a man and woman, free, unattached and not bound by the ties of consanguinity were not intended to be brother and sister. Such arguments have no end.

The thought of Charley troubled him most; he had always taken a slightly superior att.i.tude towards Charley's sentimentality. What a chance for Charley to get back at him if he learned of this!

At five minutes to eight, having looked at his watch fifty times or so, he ventured back into the house, and tapped at Corinna's door. "She's bound to be late anyhow," he thought, "no harm to hurry her up a little."

But no, she was hatted, gloved and waiting just inside the door. This little fact won his grat.i.tude surprisingly; a man does not expect it of a woman. In the sunlight they took in each other anew. What Corinna thought did not appear, but Evan was freshly delighted. She was an out-of-doors girl it appeared; the morning became her like a shining garment. He forgot the argument; it was sufficient to be with her, to laugh with her, to be ravished by the dusky, velvety tones of her voice.

Of the hours that followed it is unnecessary to speak in detail. It was one long rhapsody, and rhapsodies are apt to be a little tiresome to those other than the rhapsodists. Everybody has known such hours for themselves--or if they have not they are unfortunate. They breakfasted frugally--there is a delicious intimacy in breakfast no other meal knows, and then decided on Staten Island. Half an hour later they were voyaging down the bay, and in an hour were in the woods.

Corinna was inexorable on the question of eleven o'clock, and to Evan it seemed as if they had no sooner got there than they had to turn back again. Evan got sore, and the pleasure of the return journey was a little dimmed, though there is a kind of sweetness in these little tiffs too. Anybody seeing their eyes on each other, Corinna's as well as Evan's, would have known they were no brother and sister, but they still kept up the fiction.

As they neared home she said: "Do you mind if I go in alone?"

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" demanded Evan scowling.

"Silly! Didn't I propose this trip? The reason is very simple. Your ridiculous landlady looks on every man in the house as her property. I don't want to excite her ill-will, that's all."

Evan could not deny the truth of this characterisation of Carmen. "Go on ahead," he said. "I'll hang around in the Park for a while. See you to-night."

She stopped, and gave him an inscrutable look. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shan't be home to-night."

With this the ugly head of Corinna's mystery popped up again. It had been tormenting Evan all morning, but with a lover's pride he would not question her, and she volunteered no information.

"Oh!" said Evan flatly, and waited for her to say more.

But she seemed not to be aware that anything more was required and his brow darkened. "If it was me," he thought, "how eager I would be to explain what was taking me away from her, but she is mum!"

"Come to-morrow night," she said.

He bowed stiffly.

She hesitated a moment as if about to explain, then thought better of it, and hurried away, leaving Evan inwardly fuming.

He plumped down on a bench across the square from 45A, and thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, stretched out his legs and scowled at the pavement. A "platonic friendship" had no charms for him then.

"I'm a fool!" he said to himself. "Her brother!"--a bitter note of laughter escaped him, "when I'm out of my mind with wanting her! What a fool I was to stand for it! She's just playing the regular girl's game--no blame to her of course, it's their instinct to keep a man at arm's length as long as they can. It pleases them to have us on the grill. And I fell for it! I'm on my way to make a precious fool of myself. If I can't find out where she's going to-night, I'll be clean off my nut before morning. But I wouldn't ask her! And if she's going out with another man--! Lord! which is worse, to know or not to know?"

When he let himself in the door of 45A, Miss Sisson, according to her custom, poked her head out into the hall to see who it was. She came out.

"Oh, Mr. Weir," she said importantly, "where have you been?"

"Out," said Evan stiffly.

She was too much excited to perceive the snub. "There's been a man here for you half a dozen times I guess."

"What did he want?"

"I don't know. Says it's most important."

"Who was he?"

"Wouldn't give his name. Acted most mysterious."

"What sort of looking man?"

"A young fellow about your age, but scarcely a friend of yours I should say. A mean-like face."

This meant nothing to Evan. He looked blank.

"The last time he was here he said he'd wait," Miss Sisson went on, "but I said there was no place inside, because I didn't like his looks, so he said he'd wait in the Square and----"

The sound of the door-bell interrupted her.