CONFIDENCE
"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 kind to us too, Mr. Longueville. I want so much to thank you."
"Oh no, don't!" said Bernard, frowning. "I would rather you shouldn't."
"Of course," Mrs. Vivian added, "I know it's all on his account; but that makes me wish to thank you all the more. Let me express my gratitude, in advance, for the rest of the time, till he comes back. That's more responsibility than you bargained for," she said, with a nervous laugh.
"Yes, it's more than I bargained for. I am thinking of going away."
Mrs. Vivian almost gave a little jump, and then she paused on the Baden cobble-stones, looking up at him.
"If you must go, Mr. Longueville—don't sacrifice yourself!"
The exclamation fell upon Bernard's ear with a certain softly-mocking cadence which was sufficient, however, to make this organ tingle.
"Oh, after all, you know," he said, as they walked on—"after all, you know, I am not like Gordon—I have no business."
He walked with the ladies to the door of their lodging; Angela kept always in front. She stood there, however, at the little confectioner's window, until the others came up. She let her mother pass in, and then she said to Bernard, looking at him—
"Shall I see you again?"
"Some time, I hope."
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