Beyond the Rocks - Page 10/160

By the time Mr. Toplington advanced in his dignified way with the

accurately measured tonic on a silver tray and the single acid drop to

remove the taste, Josiah Brown had decided to go and partake food with

his father-in-law at Henry's. If he had been good enough to entertain

the Governor of Australia, he was quite good enough for Russian princes

or English lords, he told himself. Thus it was that Captain Fitzgerald,

who came in person in a few minutes to indorse his invitation, found an

unusually cordial reception awaiting him.

"I am too delighted, my dear Josiah," he said, "that you have decided to

come out of your shell. Moping would kill a cat; and I shall order you

the plainest chicken and soufflé aux fraises."

"Josiah can eat almost anything, papa. I don't think you need worry

about that," said Theodora, who hoped to make her husband enjoy himself.

And then Captain Fitzgerald left to meet his widow.

All the morning, while she walked up and down under the trees in the

Avenue du Bois beside her husband, who leaned upon her arm, Theodora's

thoughts were miles away. She felt stimulated, excited, intensely

interested in the hour, afraid they would be late. Twice she answered at

random, and Josiah got quite cross.

"I asked you which you considered would do me most good when we return

to England, to continue seeing Sir Baldwin once a week or to have Dr.

Wilton permanently in the house with us, and you answer that you quite

agree with me! Agree with what? Agree with which? You are talking

nonsense, girl!"

Theodora apologized gently, and her white velvet cheeks became tinged

with wild roses. It seemed as if the victoria, with its high-steppers,

would never come and pick them up; and it must be at least quarter of an

hour's drive to Henry's. She did not understand where it was exactly,

but papa had said the coachman would know.

If some one had told her, as Clementine certainly would have done had

she been there, that she was simply thus interested and excited because

she wished to see again Lord Bracondale, she would have been horrified.

She never had analyzed sensations herself, and the day had not yet

arrived when she would begin to do so.

At last they were rolling down the Champs-Elysées. The mass of chestnut

blooms in full glory, the tender green still fresh and springlike, the

sky as blue as blue, and every creature in the street with an air of

gayety--that Paris alone seems to inspire in the human race. It entered

into her blood, this rush of spring and hope and laughter and life, and

a radiant creature got out of the carriage at Henry's door.