She had often been to Paris in her maiden days; she knew it from the
point of view of a cheap boarding-house and snatched meals. But the
unchecked gayety of the air and the façon had not been tarnished by
that. She had played in the Tuilleries Gardens and watched Ponchinello
at the Rond Point, and later been taken once or twice to dine at a cheap
café in the Bois by papa. And once she had gone to Robinson on a coach
with him and some aristocratic acquaintances of his, and eaten luncheon
up the tree, and that was a day of the gods and to be remembered.

But now they were going to an expensive, well-managed private hotel in
the Avenue du Bois, suitable to invalids, and it poured with rain as
they drove from the Gare de Lyon.

All this time something in Theodora was developing. Her beautiful face
had an air of dignity. The set of her little Greek head would have
driven a sculptor wild--and Josiah Brown was very generous in money
matters, and she had always known how to wear her clothes, so it was no
wonder people stopped and turned their heads when she passed.

Josiah Brown possessed certainly not less than forty thousand a year,
and so felt he could afford a carriage in Paris, and any other fancy he
pleased. His nerves had been too shaken by his illness to appreciate the
joys of an automobile.