She rose and stood before him.
"Would you mind slipping off that—domino?" he requested. "I'd like to see you just as all the other fellows would have seen you if you had gone to the Van Antwerps'."
Smiling, and flushing a little, she drew off the silken garment, and the firelight bathed her softly rounded shoulders and arms in a rosy glow. He looked at her silently for a minute, until she said again that she must go, and took a step toward him, smiling down at him and holding out both hands.
"I don't know how I can spare my friend, when I've just found her," he said, searching her face with an intentness she found it difficult to bear. "I suppose I ought not to ask it, but—it's Christmas Eve, you know—and—you'll give me one more thing to remember—won't you, Nan?"
She bent, like a warm-hearted child, and laid her lips lightly upon his forehead, but he caught her hands.
"Is that the proper degree for friendship—and you feel that more would be too much?"
She hesitated; then, as his grasp drew her, she stooped lower, blushing beautifully, to give the kiss upon his lips. But it was not the breath of a caress she would have made it. Invalids are sometimes possessed of unsuspected reserves of strength.
She turned away then in a pretty confusion, said, "Good-night," and went slowly toward the door.
"Oh, come back!" he cried. "Tell me—you will write often?"
"Oh, yes; every—month."