The Count was only too pleased to engage the attention of Theodora. He was voluble; she had very little to reply. Things went smoothly. Josiah was appreciating an exceedingly good breakfast, and the playful sallies of the fair widow. All, in fact, was couleur de rose.
"Won't you talk to me any more?" Lord Bracondale said, after about a quarter of an hour. He felt that was ample time for her to have become calm, and, beautiful as the outline of her cheek was, he preferred her full face.
"But of course," said Theodora. She had not heard more than half what the Count had been saying; she wished vaguely that she might continue the subject of friendship, but she dared not.
"Do you ever go to Versailles?" he asked. This, at least, was a safe subject.
"I have been there—but not since—not this time," she answered. "I loved it: so full of memories and sentiment, and Old-World charm."
"It would give me much pleasure to take you to see it again," he said, with grave politeness. "I must devise some plan—that is, if you wish to go."
She smiled.
"It is a favorite spot of mine, and there are some alleés in the park more full of the story of spring than your Bois even."
"I do not see how we can go," said Theodora. "Josiah would find it too long a day."