to do. He looks at it a moment and then he gives his
little hop. He knows he will have a lump of sugar, and Captain Lovelock
expects one as well. Dear Captain Lovelock, shall I ring for a lump?
Would n't it be touching? Garcon, un morceau de sucre pour Monsieur
le Capitaine! But what I give Monsieur le Capitaine is moral sugar! I
usually administer it in private, and he shall have a good big morsel
when you go away."

Gordon got up, turning to Bernard and looking at his watch.

"Let us go away, in that case," he said, smiling, "and leave Captain
Lovelock to receive his reward. We will go and take a walk; we will go
up the Champs Elysees. Good morning, Monsieur le Capitaine."

Neither Blanche nor the Captain offered any opposition to this proposal,
and Bernard took leave of his hostess and joined Gordon, who had already
passed into the antechamber.

CHAPTER XXV

Gordon took his arm and they gained the street; they strolled in the
direction of the Champs Elysees.

"For a little exercise and a good deal of talk, it 's the pleasantest
place," said Gordon. "I have a good deal to say; I have a good deal to
ask you."

Bernard felt the familiar pressure of his friend's hand, as it rested on
his arm, and it seemed to him never to have lain there with so heavy a
weight. It held him fast--it held him to account; it seemed a physical
symbol of responsibility. Bernard was not re-assured by hearing that
Gordon had a great deal to say, and he expected a sudden explosion of
bitterness on the subject of Blanche's irremediable triviality. The
afternoon was a lovely one--the day was a perfect example of the
mellowest mood of autumn. The air was warm and filled with a golden
haze, which seemed to hang about the bare Parisian trees, as if with a
tender impulse to drape their nakedness. A fine day in Paris brings
out a wonderfully bright and appreciative multitude of strollers and
loungers, and the liberal spaces of the Champs Elysees were on this
occasion filled with those placid votaries of inexpensive entertainment
who abound in the French capital. The benches and chairs on the edge of
the great avenue exhibited a dense fraternity of gazers, and up and down
the broad walk passed the slow-moving and easily pleased pedestrians.
Gordon, in spite of his announcement that he had a good deal to say,
confined himself at first to superficial allusions, and Bernard after a
while had the satisfaction of perceiving that he was not