the garden, and then Angela mentioned
very quietly that she had heard that morning from Mr. Wright, and that
he would not return for another week.

"You had better stay," she presently added, as if Gordon's continued
absence were an added reason.

"I don't know," said Bernard. "It is sometimes difficult to say what one
had better do."

I hesitate to bring against him that most inglorious of all charges,
an accusation of sentimental fatuity, of the disposition to invent
obstacles to enjoyment so that he might have the pleasure of seeing
a pretty girl attempt to remove them. But it must be admitted that if
Bernard really thought at present that he had better leave Baden, the
observation I have just quoted was not so much a sign of this conviction
as of the hope that his companion would proceed to gainsay it. The
hope was not disappointed, though I must add that no sooner had it been
gratified than Bernard began to feel ashamed of it.

"This certainly is not one of those cases," said Angela. "The thing is
surely very simple now."

"What makes it so simple?"

She hesitated a moment.

"The fact that I ask you to stay."

"You ask me?" he repeated, softly.

"Ah," she exclaimed, "one does n't say those things twice!"

She turned away, and they went back to her mother, who gave Bernard a
wonderful little look of half urgent, half remonstrant inquiry. As they
left the garden he walked beside Mrs. Vivian, Angela going in front of
them at a distance. The elder lady began immediately to talk to him of
Gordon Wright.

"He 's not coming back for another week, you know," she said. "I am
sorry he stays away so long."

"Ah yes," Bernard answered, "it seems very long indeed."

And it had, in fact, seemed to him very long.

"I suppose he is always likely to have business," said Mrs. Vivian.

"You may be very sure it is not for his pleasure that he stays away."

"I know he is faithful to old friends," said Mrs. Vivian. "I am sure he
has not forgotten us."

"I certainly count upon that," Bernard exclaimed--"remembering him as we
do!"

Mrs. Vivian glanced at him gratefully.

"Oh yes, we remember him--we remember him daily, hourly. At least, I
can speak for my daughter and myself. He has been so very kind to us."
Bernard said nothing, and she went on. "And you have been so very kind
to us, too, Mr. Longueville. I want so much to thank you."

"Oh no, don't!" said Bernard, frowning. "I would rather you should n't."

"