But she had other plans for its unsealing and its perusal, and said so.
"Aren't you going to read it, Athalie?"
"Yes—when you go."
"Why?"
"Because—it will make your visit seem a little longer," she said frankly.
"Athalie, are you really glad to see me?"
She looked up as though he were jesting, and caught in his eye another gleam of that sudden seriousness which had already slightly confused her. For a moment only, both felt the least sense of constraint, then the instinct that had forbidden her to admit any significance in his seriousness, parted her lips with that engaging smile which he had begun to know so well, and to await with an expectancy that approached fascination.
"Peach turnovers," she said. "Do you remember? If I had not been glad to see you in those days I would not have gone into the kitchen to bring you one.... And I have already told you that I am unchanged.... Wait! I am changed.... I am very much wealthier." And she laughed her delicious, unembarrassed laugh of a child.
He laughed, too, then shot a glance around the shabby room.