it?"

"Such things are always useful. It will be a good thing to have."

"I am much obliged to you; but do you propose to let anything depend
upon it? Do you propose to take or to leave Miss Vivian--that is, to
return to the charge or to give up trying--in consequence of my fresh
impression?"

Gordon seemed perfectly unembarrassed by this question, in spite of the
ironical light which it projected upon his sentimental perplexity.

"I propose to do what I choose!" he said.

"That 's a relief to me," Bernard rejoined. "This idea of yours is,
after all, only the play of the scientific mind."

"I shall contradict you flat if I choose," Gordon went on.

"Ah, it 's well to warn me of that," said Bernard, laughing. "Even the
most sincere judgment in the world likes to be notified a little of the
danger of being contradicted."

"Is yours the most sincere judgment in the world?" Gordon demanded.

"That 's a very pertinent question. Does n't it occur to you that you
may have reason to be jealous--leaving me alone, with an open field,
with the woman of your choice?"

"I wish to heaven I could be jealous!" Gordon exclaimed. "That would
simplify the thing--that would give me a lift."

And the next day, after some more talk, it seemed really with a hope of
this contingency--though, indeed, he laughed about it--that he started
for England.

CHAPTER XI

For the three or four days that followed Gordon Wright's departure,
Bernard saw nothing of the ladies who had been committed to his charge.
They chose to remain in seclusion, and he was at liberty to interpret
this fact as an expression of regret at the loss of Gordon's good
offices. He knew other people at Baden, and he went to see them and
endeavored, by cultivating their society, to await in patience the
re-appearance of Mrs. Vivian and her companions. But on the fourth day
he became conscious that other people were much less interesting than
the trio of American ladies who had lodgings above the confectioner's,
and he made bold to go and knock at their door. He had been asked to
take care of them, and this function presupposed contact. He had
met Captain Lovelock the day before, wandering about with a rather
crest-fallen aspect, and the young Englishman had questioned him eagerly
as to the whereabouts of Mrs. Vivian.

"Gad, I believe they 've left the place--left the place without giving a
fellow warning!" cried Lovelock.

"Oh no, I think they are here