er of a polyglot waiter); so that the poor
young girl, casting backward glances along the path of Mrs. Vivian's
retreat, and failing to detect the onward rush of a rescuing cavalier,
had perforce believed herself forsaken, and had been obliged to summon
philosophy to her aid. It was very possible that her philosophic studies
had taught her the art of reflection; and that, as she would have said
herself, she was tremendously toned down. Once, at Baden, when Gordon
Wright happened to take upon himself to remark that little Miss Evers
was bored by her English gallant, Bernard had ventured to observe,
in petto, that Gordon knew nothing about it. But all this was of no
consequence now, and Bernard steered further and further away from the
liability to detect fallacies in his friend. Gordon had engaged himself
to marry, and our critical hero had not a grain of fault to find with
this resolution. It was a capital thing; it was just what he wanted; it
would do him a world of good. Bernard rejoiced with him sincerely, and
regretted extremely that a series of solemn engagements to pay visits in
England should prevent his being present at the nuptials.

They were well over, as I have said, when he reached New York. The
honeymoon had waned, and the business of married life had begun.
Bernard, at the end, had sailed from England rather abruptly. A friend
who had a remarkably good cabin on one of the steamers was obliged by a
sudden detention to give it up, and on his offering it to Longueville,
the latter availed himself gratefully of this opportunity of being a
little less discomposed than usual by the Atlantic billows. He therefore
embarked at two days' notice, a fortnight earlier than he had intended
and than he had written to Gordon to expect him. Gordon, of course, had
written that he was to seek no hospitality but that which Blanche was
now prepared--they had a charming house--so graciously to dispense;
but Bernard, nevertheless, leaving the ship early in the morning, had
betaken himself to an hotel. He wished not to anticipate his welcome,
and he determined to report himself to Gordon first and to come back
with his luggage later in the day. After purifying himself of his
sea-stains, he left his hotel and walked up the Fifth Avenue with all
a newly-landed voyager's enjoyment of terrestrial locomotion. It was a
charming autumn day; there was a golden haze in the air; he supposed
it was the Indian summer. The broad sidewalk of t