He laughed joyously.
"I don't know," he said, "but I shall make it a point to examine my bank-account to-night. I haven't done so—for some time."
"We will go to Venice, and drift about in a gondola on one of those gray days when the haze comes in from the Adriatic and touches the city with the magic of the past. Sometimes I like the gray days best—when I am happy. And then," she added, regarding him critically, "although you are very near perfection, there are some things you ought to see and learn to make your education complete. I will take you to all the queer places I love. When you are ambassador to France, you know, it would be humiliating to have to have an interpreter, wouldn't it?"
"What's the use of both of us knowing the language?" he demanded.
"I'm afraid we shall be—too happy," she sighed, presently.
"Too happy!" he repeated.
"I sometimes wonder," she said, "whether happiness and achievement go together. And yet—I feel sure that you will achieve."
"To please you, Victoria," he answered, "I think I should almost be willing to try."