Theodora
A Fragment
I DID not turn out of bed till ten o'clock the next morning, and I was still in dressing-gown and slippers, sitting by the fire, looking over a map, when Digby came in upon me.
"Hullo, Ray, only just up, eh? as usual?" was his first exclamation as he entered, his ulster buttoned to his chin, and the snow thick upon his boots. "What a fellow you are! I can't understand anybody lying in bed till ten o'clock in the morning."
"And I can't understand anybody driving up at seven," I said, smiling, and stirring my coffee idly. I had laid down the map with resignation. I knew Digby had come round to jaw for the next hour at least. "Can I offer you some breakfast?"
"Breakfast!" returned Digby contemptuously. "No, thanks. I had mine hours ago. Well, what do you think of her?"
"Of whom?—this Theodora?"
"Oh, it's Theodora already, is it?" said Digby, looking at me. "Well, never mind: go on. Yes, what do you think of her?"
"She seems rather clever, I think."
