marriage ...
he had implicit confidence in her promise.

Madelene's keen enjoyment in displaying the many sights, already
familiar to her, bored him to distraction, and they had been in France
but a few days before she discovered his indifference to the wonders
which seemed of such importance to her. On the way over she had noticed
his spells of abstraction. She had seen how quickly the shadows
descended upon her husband's face when it was in repose. With an
intuition characteristically feminine, she concluded rightly that
Frederick's interest was not in her, that his attention was really
concentrated upon something quite apart from his wife and their
honeymoon. She determined to find out the reason.

One morning, breakfasting in their charming room, Madelene started a
bright conversation, which Frederick met with but a chilly response.

"What's the matter with you, Fred?" she demanded curiously. "You haven't
spoken a pleasant word for two days."

A faint smile sketched itself about the corners of Frederick's lips.

"Aren't you stretching that a little, my dear?" he evaded
half-playfully.

"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."

Absorbed in his self-centered meditations his wife's sightseeing
excursions seemed to him a perfect nuisance.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, dear," he apologized hurriedly.

Madelene got up and went to the window and gazed down upon the street.

"I know what we'll do," she stated, dancing back to the table. "Let's go
to some quiet, cool place for a week or