"Well, perhaps a wee bit," laughed Madelene, ruefully. "But honestly, dear, you look as if you'd lost your last friend instead of being on your—honeymoon."
She sprang up, rounded the table and perched daintily on the arm of his chair.
"I do want to make you happy, darling," she urged. "What's the trouble?"
Frederick made a slightly impatient gesture with one shoulder.
"I'm happy enough, Madelene! But it's this beastly weather! I suppose that's the reason I feel so lackadaisical. If you don't mind, I don't believe I'll go out today."
Madelene uttered a little cry of disappointment.
"Now, I am vexed!" she pouted prettily.
"Oh, then I'll go with you, of course," Frederick hastily cut in. "It doesn't make any difference to me."
The young wife felt an impulse to anger.
"But it ought to make a difference, Fred dear," she pointed out to him. "Why, you make me feel so small ... so insignificant.... I don't want to drag you about if you don't want to go."