money and luxuries are an important part of your life."
Carmelita's lips were trembling. She was hurt. Why was Dudley introducing this jarring note into her suddenly found happiness?
"I could live without even money—with you," she declared gently, pressing more tightly to him, almost pleading.
"You are so adorably perfect as you are—I wonder."
"My fortune—it is enough for both of us. We need not starve," offered Carmelita innocently. She could not understand the halting of his passionate declaration on what seemed to her a non-essential, something that could easily be settled upon the cold gray morning after. She loved him, but her pride was deeply hurt. She was becoming impatient.
"I could not live upon my wife. My love—and my pride—would die."
"Your pride!" Carmelita's voice and accompanying gesture were expressively Spanish. She choked her gathering tears. She looked around wildly, and before he knew what was happening had sprung into the carriage, shaken the drowsing driver fiercely into consciousness, hurled some breathless Spanish-French into his ears, and set the creaking victoria into movement. The astonished and chagrined Dudley was left watching the sway-
