"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 all the afternoon, and we have tea, at the Pre Catalan and drive again until about seven, and then we come in and dine, and I go to bed very early. Josiah is not strong enough yet for late hours or theatres." "It sounds supernaturally gay for Paris!" said Lord Bracondale; and then he felt a brute when he saw the cloud in the blue eyes. "No, it is not gay," she said, simply. "But the flowers are beautiful, and the green trees and the chestnut blossoms and the fine air here, and there is a little stream among the trees which laughs to itself as it runs, and all these things say something to me." He felt rebuked--rebuked and interested. "I would like to see them all with you," he said. That was one of his charms--directness. He did not insinuate often; he stated facts.