‘Kiss and be friends, Paul,’ said Claudia, and Paul was lured back to his absurd paradise, and fed on kisses and caresses which were sometimes suffered to reach the edge of ardour, and then skilfully chilled.
If feminine nine-and-twenty thinks it worth while to befool masculine one-and-twenty, and knows her business as well as Claudia knew it, the task is fairly easy. Claudia would not hear of Paul throwing away his prospects for so mad a purpose as to follow her to London. She covered her pretty ears with her ringed fingers when he talked of it, and positively refused to listen. But he must be rewarded for his devotion, too, and Claudia wished with all her heart that she could love Paul as he loved her. But it would be wicked to marry without a proper feeling for a husband, and Paul was her brother, her dear, dear younger brother, and to talk of marriage at their ages was such a folly. Wouldn’t Paul always be her brother? And she laid her soft warm cheek against his and kissed his hand. What more could he ask for, silly boy? Wasn’t that happiness enough for him if he really loved her? If he would be good, and promise never, never, never to be foolish again, and frighten Claudia with his anger—why should he want to frighten his poor Claudia?—they might always love each other, and be, oh, so happy!
The programme thus presented was actually admitted at last to be reasonable—for the time being—and Paul was sent away with the tenderest farewells and a profound belief—for the time being—that Claudia was an angel.
‘Whatever you do, dear,’ she had said at parting, with her sisterly arms about his neck, ‘you must not dream of following me to London. I could not bear to think that you had imperilled your prospects for my sake.’
‘I care for nothing in the world but you,’ said Paul.
He played honest coin against counters.
‘It is sweet to hear you say so,’ said the sisterly Claudia, and she was so touched by his devotion that she allowed him to kiss her almost as wildly as he wished to do.
An hour or two later Paul was in Darco’s presence. He had a hang-dog look and felt ashamed, but he was resolute.
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ he said, ‘but it has become absolutely necessary that I should go to London.’
‘Oh!’ said Darco, ‘is there anythings the madder? Ven do you want to co and for how lonk?’