She made him tea with her samovar, and she talked to him about Parisian journalism and the Parisian stage in a way that made her a further discovery to him; and his mind, hitherto wholly devoted to the service of the _Illustrated Age_, received an impetus in a new direction.

When he had gone Elfrida laughed a little, silently, thinking first of this, for it was quite plain to her.

Then, contrasting what the _Age_ wanted her to write with her ideal of journalistic literature, she stated to Buddha that it was "worse than _panade_." "But it means two pounds a week, Buddha," she said; "fifty francs! Do you understand that?
It means that we shall be able to stay here, in the world--that I shall not be obliged to take you to Sparta.

You don't know, Buddha, how you would _loathe_ Sparta! But understand, it is at _that_ price that we are going to despise ourselves for a while--not for the two pounds!" And next day she was sent to report a distribution of diplomas to graduating nurses by the Princess of Wales.
Buddha was not an adequate confidant.

Elfrida found him capable of absorbing her emotions indefinitely, but his still smile was not always responsive enough, so she made a little feast, and asked Golightly Ticke to tea, the Sunday after the Saturday that made her a salaried member of the London press.