much; perhaps he did know.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE STORY MOVES ON AT LAST.

BERNARDINE was playing chess one day with the Swedish Professor. On the
Kurhaus terrace the guests were sunning themselves, warmly wrapped up to
protect themselves from the cold, and well-provided with parasols to
protect themselves from the glare. Some were reading, some were playing
cards or Russian dominoes, and others were doing nothing. There was a
good deal of fun, and a great deal of screaming amongst the Portuguese
colony. The little danseuse and three gentlemen acquaintances were
drinking coffee, and not behaving too quietly. Pretty Fraulein Muller was
leaning over her balcony carrying on a conversation with a picturesque
Spanish youth below. Most of the English party had gone sledging and
tobogganing. Mrs. Reffold had asked Bernardine to join them, but she had
refused. Mrs. Reffold's friends were anything but attractive to
Bernardine, although she liked Mrs. Reffold herself immensely. There was
no special reason why she should like her; she certainly had no cause to
admire her every-day behaviour, nor her neglect of her invalid husband,
who was passing away, uncared for in the present, and not likely to be
mourned for in the future. Mrs. Reffold was gay, careless, and beautiful.
She understood nothing about nursing, and cared less. So a trained nurse
looked after Mr. Reffold, and Mrs. Reffold went sledging.

"Dear Wilfrid is so unselfish," she said. "He will not have me stay at
home. But I feel very selfish." That was her stock remark. Most people
answered her by saying: "Oh no, Mrs. Reffold, don't say that." But when
she made the remark to Bernardine, and expected the usual reply,
Bernardine said instead: "Mr. Reffold seems lonely."

"Oh, he has a trained nurse, and she can read to him," said Mrs. Reffold
hurriedly. She seemed ruffled.

"I had a trained nurse once," replied Bernardine; "and she could read;
but she would not. She said it hurt her throat."

"Dear me, how very unfortunate for you," said Mrs. Reffold. "Ah, there
is Captain Graham calling. I must not keep the sledges waiting."

That was a few days ago, but to-day, when Bernardine was playing chess
with the Swedish Professor, Mrs. Reffold came to her. There was a
curious mixture of shyness and abandon in Mrs. Reffold's manner.

"Miss Holme," she said, "I have thought of such a splendid idea. Will
you go and see Mr. Reffold this afternoon? That would be a nice lit