The gentleman gave a violent, but an entirely happy start. Well, there were rewards then for people who didn't follow speeding motors through France! She was back and in Paris.
"What—has come so soon?" he asked.
Mrs. Falconer, on her way from a hat shop in her automobile, stopped by his side.
"Why, your second childhood, my dear man. Do you know what shop you are standing before?"
Bulstrode seemed to be perfectly aware of his dotage and to delight in it. Behind the big window pane there was a bright and very juvenile display.
Ships sailed there; dolls hung gaudily and smilingly aloft; giant parti-colored balls rounded out their harlequin sides; tiny dishes for pygmy festivals were piled with delicious carrots and artichokes on little white, blue-rimmed platters.
"Have you a moment to spare?" Bulstrode asked her.
"I have bought all my hats," she replied; "after that a woman's time hangs heavy on her hands."
"Ah!" he was as radiant as she had the genius for making him. "Come, then, in with me and help me choose a doll."
It was not the first purchase during the course of a long friendship which Bulstrode had made with this charming woman by his side, but for some reason he enjoyed it more than former errands. The bachelor and the childless woman were hard to please and their choice consumed an unconscionable time. As they lingered, the amiable shopman pressed various toys on monsieur and madame "pour les enfants," and the lady, finally depositing her friend with his parcels at the door of his hôtel, realized as she drove away that she knew nothing of the child for whom the purchases had been made. On her way up the Champs Elysées she smiled softly. "It's what you share," she mused, "what you give of yourself—with yourself—that's charity! Jimmy gives himself. I wonder who his new love is?"