expense, the opportunity for pushing their
researches. The place did great honor to Gordon's liberality and to his
ingenuity; but Blanche, who had also paid it a visit, could never speak
of it without a pretty little shudder.

"Nothing would induce me to go there again," she declared, "and I
consider myself very fortunate to have escaped from it with my life. It
's filled with all sorts of horrible things, that fizzle up and go off,
or that make you turn some dreadful color if you look at them. I expect
to hear a great clap some day, and half an hour afterward to see Gordon
brought home in several hundred small pieces, put up in a dozen little
bottles. I got a horrid little stain in the middle of my dress that one
of the young men--the young savants--was so good as to drop there. Did
you see the young savants who work under Gordon's orders? I thought they
were too forlorn; there is n't one of them you would look at. If you can
believe it, there was n't one of them that looked at me; they took no
more notice of me than if I had been the charwoman. They might have
shown me some attention, at least, as the wife of the proprietor. What
is it that Gordon 's called--is n't there some other name? If you say
'proprietor,' it sounds as if he kept an hotel. I certainly don't want
to pass for the wife of an hotel-keeper. What does he call himself? He
must have some name. I hate telling people he 's a chemist; it sounds
just as if he kept a shop. That 's what they call the druggists in
England, and I formed the habit while I was there. It makes me feel
as if he were some dreadful little man, with big green bottles in
the window and 'night-bell' painted outside. He does n't call himself
anything? Well, that 's exactly like Gordon! I wonder he consents to
have a name at all. When I was telling some one about the young men who
work under his orders--the young savants--he said I must not say that--I
must not speak of their working 'under his orders.' I don't know what he
would like me to say! Under his inspiration!"

During the hours of Gordon's absence, Bernard had frequent colloquies
with his friend's wife, whose irresponsible prattle amused him, and in
whom he tried to discover some faculty, some quality, which might be a
positive guarantee of Gordon's future felicity. But often, of course,
Gordon was an auditor as well; I say an auditor, because it seemed
to Bernard that he had grown to be less of a talker than of yore.
Doubtless