the dense October air with a softened and muffled sound.
The evenings, however, were growing cool, and before long they lighted
the first fire of the season in Mrs. Vivian's heavily draped little
chimney-piece. On this occasion Bernard sat there with Angela, watching
the bright crackle of the wood and feeling that the charm of winter
nights had begun. These two young persons were alone together in the
gathering dusk; it was the hour before dinner, before the lamp had been
lighted.

"I insist upon making you my confession," said Bernard. "I shall be very
unhappy until you let me do it."

"Unhappy? You are the happiest of men."

"I lie upon roses, if you will; but this memory, this remorse, is
a folded rose-leaf. I was completely mistaken about you at Baden; I
thought all manner of evil of you--or at least I said it."

"Men are dull creatures," said Angela.

"I think they are. So much so that, as I look back upon that time, there
are some things I don't understand even now."

"I don't see why you should look back. People in our position are
supposed to look forward."

"You don't like those Baden days yourself," said Bernard. "You don't
like to think of them."

"What a wonderful discovery!"

Bernard looked at her a moment in the brightening fire-light.

"What part was it you tried to play there?"

Angela shook her head.

"Men are dull creatures."

"I have already granted that, and I am eating humble pie in asking for
an explanation."

"What did you say of me?" Angela asked, after a silence.

"I said you were a coquette. Remember that I am simply historical."

She got up and stood in front of the fire, having her hand on the
chimney-piece and looking down at the blaze. For some moments she
remained there. Bernard could not see her face.

"I said you were a dangerous woman to marry," he went on deliberately.
"I said it because I thought it. I gave Gordon an opinion about you--it
was a very unfavorable one. I could n't make you out--I thought you were
playing a double part. I believed that you were ready to marry him, and
yet I saw--I thought I saw--" and Bernard paused again.

"What did you see?" and Angela turned toward him.

"That you were encouraging me--playing with me."

"And you did n't like that?"

"I liked it immensely--for myself! But did n't like it for Gordon; and
I must do myself the justice to say that I thought more of him than of
myself."

"You were an excellent friend," said Ange