greeable, and the
next ten minutes passed without incident.

Josiah, not quite at ease, perhaps, but on the whole not ill-pleased
with his situation. The Count took all ups and downs as of the day's
work, sure of a good breakfast, sooner or later, unpaid for by himself.
And Lord Bracondale's thoughts ran somewhat thus:

"She is even more beautiful in daylight than at night. She can't be more
than twenty--what a skin! like a white gardenia petal--and, good Lord,
what a husband! How revolting, how infamous! I suppose that old schemer,
her father, sold her to him. Her eyes remind one of forgotten fairy
tales of angels. Can anything be so sweet as that little nose and those
baby-red lips. She has a soul, too, peeping out of the blue when she
looks up at one. She reminds me of Praxiteles' Psyche when she looks
down. Why did I not meet her long ago? I believe I ought not to stay
now--something tells me I shall fall deeply into this. And what a
voice!--as gentle and caressing as a tender dove. A man would give his
soul for such a woman. As guileless as an infant saint, too--and
sensitive and human and understanding. I wish to God I had the strength
of mind to get up and go this minute--but I haven't--it is fate."

"Oh, how naughty of papa," said Theodora, "to be so late! Are you very
hungry, Josiah? Shall we begin without them?"

But at that moment, with rustling silks and delicate perfume, the widow
and Captain Fitzgerald came in at the door and joined the party.

"I am just too sorry," the lady said, gayly. "It is all Captain
Fitzgerald's fault--he would try to restrain me from buying what I
wanted, and so it made me obstinate and I had to stay right there and
order half the shop."

"How I understand you!" sympathized Lord Bracondale. "I know just that
feeling of wanting forbidden fruit. It makes the zest of life."

He had foreseen the disposition of the party, and by sitting in the
outside corner seat at the end knew he would have Theodora almost _en
tete-a-tete_, once they were all seated along the velvet sofa beyond
Josiah Brown.

"What do you do with yourself all the time here?" he asked, lowering his
voice to that deep note which only carries to the ear it is intended
for. "May one ever see you again except at a chance meal like this?"

"I don't know," said Theodora. "I walk up and down in the side allees of
the Bois in the morning with my husband, and when he has had his sleep,
after dejeuner, we drive nearly