She pressed
his arm, laughed at his mirthful talk; and Denzil looked down into
her face with pride and delight in its loveliness. He had taken
especial care to have her dressed in the manner that became his
wife; Parisian science had gone to the making of her costume, and
its efforts were not wasted. As they entered the restaurant, many
eyes were turned with critical appreciation upon the modest face and
figure, as undeniably English, in their way, as Quarrier's robust
manhood.
Denzil's French was indifferently good, better perhaps than his
capacity for picking out from the bill of fare a little dinner which
should exalt him in the eyes of waiters. He went to work, however,
with a noble disregard for consequences, whether to digestion or
pocket. Where Lilian was concerned there could be no such thing as
extravagance; he gloried in obtaining for her the best of everything
that money could command. The final "_Bien, monsieur_," was, after
all, sufficiently respectful, and our friend leaned back with the
pleasant consciousness of duty performed.
He drank a good deal of wine, and talking with a spontaneity beyond
the ordinary Briton. Towards the close of dinner his theme was the
coming electoral contest.
"You know," he said, bending over the table, "you will be able to
give me important help. The wife of a candidate--especially of a
Radical candidate--can find plenty of work, if she knows how to go
about it.
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