in timbre, was likewise devoid of colour.

"My husband finds that it saves us from responsibilities," she remarked.

"And over-charges, and the necessity of learning foreign languages,
which at our time of life would be difficult. During all our travels we
have not been to Paris before, owing to the impossibility of finding a
personally-conducted tour of an adequate class."

"Then, my dear sir," cried Aristide, "it is Providence itself that has
put you in the way of the Agence Pujol. I will now conduct you to the
Madeleine without the least discomfort or danger."

"Put on your hat, Henrietta," said Mr. Ducksmith, "while this gentleman
and I discuss terms."

Mrs. Ducksmith gathered up her knitting and retired, Aristide dashing
to the door to open it for her. This gallantry surprised her ever so
little, for a faint flush came into her cheek and the shadow of a smile
into her eyes.

"I wish you to understand, Mr. Pujol," said Mr. Ducksmith, "that being,
I may say, a comparatively rich man, I can afford to pay for certain
luxuries; but I made a resolution many years ago, which has stood me in
good stead during my business life, that I would never be cheated. You
will find me liberal but just."

He was as good as his word. Aristide, who had never in his life
exploited another's wealth to his own advantage, suggested certain
terms, on the basis of so much per head per day, which Mr. Ducksmith
declared, with a sigh of relief, to be perfectly satisfactory.

"Perhaps," said he, after further conversation, "you will be good enough
to schedule out a month's railway tour through France, and give me an
inclusive estimate for the three of us. As I say, Mrs. Ducksmith and I
are great travellers--we have been to Norway, to Egypt, to Morocco and
the Canaries, to the Holy Land, to Rome, and lovely Lucerne--but we find
that attention to the trivial detail of travel militates against our
enjoyment."

"My dear sir," said Aristide, "trust in me, and your path and that of
the charming Mrs. Ducksmith will be strewn with roses."

Whereupon Mrs. Ducksmith appeared, arrayed for walking out, and
Aristide, having ordered a cab, drove with them to the Madeleine. They
alighted in front of the majestic flight of steps. Mr. Ducksmith stared
at the classical portico supported on its Corinthian columns with his
rabbit-like, unspeculative gaze--he had those filmy blue eyes that never
seem to wink--and after a moment or two turned away.

"Um