"It only makes me care the more for our friendship, Captain Dane." He nodded, studying the pattern in the Shirvan rug under his feet. A procession of symbols representing scorpions and tarantulas embellished one of the rug's many border stripes. His grave eyes followed the procession entirely around the five-by-three bit of weaving. Then he rose, bent over her, took her slim hand in silence, saluted it, and asking if he might call again very soon, went out about his business, whatever it was. Probably the most important business he had on hand just then was to get over his love for Athalie Greensleeve. For a long while Athalie sat there beside Hafiz considering the world and what it was threatening to do to her; considering man and what he had offered and what he had not offered to do to her. Distressed because of the pain she had inflicted on Captain Dane, yet proud of the honour done her, she sat thinking, sometimes of Clive, sometimes of Mr. Wahlbaum, sometimes of Doris and Catharine, and of her brother who had gone out to the coast years ago, and from whom she had never heard. But mostly she thought of Clive--and of his long silence. Presently Hafiz woke up, stretched his fluffy, snowy limbs, yawned, pink-mouthed, then looked up out of gem-clear eyes, blinking inquiringly at his young mistress. "Hafiz," she said, "if I don't find employment very soon, what is to become of you?" The evening paper, as yet unread, lay on the sofa beside her. She picked it up, listlessly, glancing at the headings of the front page columns. There seemed to be trouble in Mexico; trouble in Japan; trouble in Hayti. Another column recorded last night's heat and gave the list of deaths and prostrations in the city. Another column--the last on the front page--announced by cable the news of a fashionable engagement--a Miss Winifred Stuart to a Mr. Clive Bailey; both at present in Paris-- She read it again, slowly; and even yet it meant nothing to her, conveyed nothing she seemed able to comprehend. But halfway down the column her eyes blurred, the paper slipped from her hands to the floor, and she dropped back into the hollow of the sofa, and lay there, unstirring. And Hafiz, momentarily disturbed, curled up on her lap again and went peacefully to sleep. CHAPTER XV To her sisters Athalie wrote: "For reasons of economy, and other reasons, I have moved to 1006 West Fifty-fifth Street where I have the top floor. I think that you both can find accommodations in this house when you return to New York. "So far I have not secured a position. Please don't think I am discouraged. I do hope that you are well and successful." Their address, at that time, was Vancouver, B. C. * * * * * To Clive Bailey, Jr., his agent wrote: "Miss Athalie Greensleeve called at the office this morning and returned the keys to the apartment which she has occupied.