Lily, to whom the tea had restored her usual clearness of mind, saw what was in his thoughts and said with a slight smile: "You would not be likely to know about me. I have joined the working classes."He stared in genuine wonder. "You don't mean ? Why, what on earth are you doing?""Learning to be a milliner--at least TRYING to learn," she hastily qualified the statement.
Rosedale suppressed a low whistle of surprise. "Come off--you ain't serious, are you?""Perfectly serious. I'm obliged to work for my living.""But I understood--I thought you were with Norma Hatch.""You heard I had gone to her as her secretary?""Something of the kind, I believe." He leaned forward to refill her cup.
Lily guessed the possibilities of embarrassment which the topic held for him, and raising her eyes to his, she said suddenly: "Ileft her two months ago."
Rosedale continued to fumble awkwardly with the tea-pot, and she felt sure that he had heard what had been said of her. But what was there that Rosedale did not hear?
"Wasn't it a soft berth?" he enquired, with an attempt at lightness.
"Too soft--one might have sunk in too deep." Lily rested one arm on the edge of the table, and sat looking at him more intently than she had ever looked before. An uncontrollable impulse was urging her to put her case to this man, from whose curiosity she had always so fiercely defended herself.
"You know Mrs. Hatch, I think? Well, perhaps you can understand that she might make things too easy for one."Rosedale looked faintly puzzled, and she remembered that allusiveness was lost on him.
"It was no place for you, anyhow," he agreed, so suffused and immersed in the light of her full gaze that he found himself being drawn into strange depths of intimacy. He who had had to subsist on mere fugitive glances, looks winged in flight and swiftly lost under covert, now found her eyes settling on him with a brooding intensity that fairly dazzled him.
"I left," Lily continued, "lest people should say I was helping Mrs. Hatch to marry Freddy Van Osburgh--who is not in the least too good for her--and as they still continue to say it, I see that I might as well have stayed where I was.""Oh, Freddy---" Rosedale brushed aside the topic with an air of its unimportance which gave a sense of the immense perspective he had acquired. "Freddy don't count--but I knew YOU weren't mixed up in that. It ain't your style."Lily coloured slightly: she could not conceal from herself that the words gave her pleasure. She would have liked to sit there, drinking more tea, and continuing to talk of herself to Rosedale.