They had spent a few hours in Ischia as they had intended, and had then come over to Naples in a small steamer which plied daily between the island and the city. Julius paid something to have his boat towed across, and when he was in Naples he paid the men a month's wages in advance, and told them to go back to Genoa and wait for him there. They might steal the boat--or they might not, he did not care. The thing had to be sent somewhere, and if it ever reached Genoa so much the better.
He drove with Leonora up and down the Toledo for hours, stopping at all manner of shops, and buying all manner of things. Now and then he would succeed in paying for something, but she generally insisted on using her own money. It was fortunate that she had taken it, she thought, as it would have been so awkward to let him pay for everything. He remonstrated.
"All that I have is yours, darling," he said. "You must not begin with such ideas."
"I do not mean to be a burden to you, Julius," answered Leonora. "I am sure I must be much richer than you. Nobody ever made himself rich by writing books." She laughed, and he laughed with her. It was so very amusing to talk to each other about what they possessed.
"Ideas about being rich are comparative," said Julius. "If I sent Worth two or three hundred pounds for a dress every other week, I should certainly not be very well off. But"--
"Oh, Julius--what an idea! There is no one so cheap as Worth in the long run."
"I was going to say something very pretty," remarked Julius.
"Oh, I would not have interrupted you if I had known. What was it?"
"I was going to say that I must be richer than you--since I have got you, and you have only got me."
"You always say things like that," said Leonora, laughing lightly. "Be sure that you always do--I like them very much."
"Ah," said Julius, gravely, "I will sit up all night and make them for you."
"They ought to be spontaneous," said Leonora.
"Everything that is pretty in the world is spontaneous to you, my dear. But I have to work hard to make pretty things, because I am only a man."
"That is really not bad," said she, laughing again.
She wondered vaguely whether he would always be the same. Her husband used to talk much like that at first. But he grew so dull, and when he said things he never looked as if he quite meant them. Julius said sometimes a few words--just what any one might have said; but there was a tone in his voice, and his eyes were so fiery. She loved the fire; it used to frighten her at first.