"I once thought," she went on, hurriedly, "that I was perfectly happy
the first time Josiah gave me two thousand francs, and told me to go out
with my maid and buy just what I wished with it; and oh, we bought
everything I could think Sarah and Clementine could want, numbers and
numbers of things, and I remember I was fearfully excited when they were
sent off to Dieppe. But I never knew if I chose well or if they liked
them all quite, and now to do that does not give me nearly so much joy."

Soon they drew up at the little café and ordered tea, which he guessed
probably would be very bad and they would not drink. But tea was
English, and more novel than coffee for Theodora, and that she must
have, she said.

She was so gracious and sweet in the pouring of it out, when presently
it came, and the elderly waiter seemed so sympathetic, and it was all
gay and bright with the late afternoon sun streaming upon them.

"The garçon takes us for a honeymoon couple," Hector said; "he sees you
have beautiful new clothes, and that we have not yet begun to yawn with
each other."

But Theodora had not this view of honeymoons. To her a honeymoon meant a
nightmare, now happily a thing of the past, and almost forgotten.