Every one behaved with immense propriety--they said just what they
should have said, there was no gêne at all. And when they went up the
stairs together to arrange their hair and their hats for dinner, the
elder woman slipped her arm through Theodora's.

"I am going to marry your father, my dear," she said, "and I want you to
be the first to wish me joy."

The dinner went off with great gayety. The widow especially was full of
bright sayings, and Captain Fitzgerald made the most devoted lover. Not
too elated by his good-fortune, and yet thoroughly happy and tender. He
continually told himself that fate had been uncommonly kind to mix
business and pleasure so dexterously, for if the widow had not possessed
a cent, he still would have been glad to marry her.

He had been quite honest with her on their drive, explaining his
financial situation and his disadvantages, which he said could only be
slightly balanced by his devotion and affection--but of those he would
lay the whole at her feet.

And the widow had said: "Now look here, I am old enough just to know what my money is worth--and
if you like to put it as a business speculation for me, I consider, in
buying the companion for the rest of my life who happens to suit me, I
am laying out the sum to my own advantage."