There didn't live a prouder or a happier man than I was, as we made our
way arm in arm towards the Place Dauphine, where we were to take the
omnibus for Belleville.
We ran wild in the woods and fields all that day, we fed the fishes in
the ponds, we made ourselves dizzy on the seesaws and merry-go-rounds,
and at last, fairly tired out, and feeling desperately and most
unromantically hungry, turned into the neatest and least frequented
restaurant we could find and ordered our dinner.
Therese was no _gourmande_, luckily. Her tastes were simple and
harmonized admirably with my slender means. We dined, however, like
princes, and drank a bottle of _Chateau Margeaux_, instead of the _vin
ordinaire_, which was my ordinary wine. Therese's gayety had fairly
inoculated me, and, forgetting my usual reserve, we laughed and chatted
as noisily as a couple of children.
"Upon my word," cried I, as I caught sight of a bouquet of flowers in
the room we occupied, "what a couple of ninnies we have been! We have
forgotten to get any flowers to carry home with us. But I suppose you
see too many of them through the week to care for them to-day.
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