CONFIDENCE
to tell you, frankly, that our little home is to be—a—broken up. You know there is to be a change," the good lady continued, with a hesitation which apparently came from a sense of walking on uncertain ground, while she glanced with a smile at Bernard and Angela.
Blanche sat there with her little excited, yet innocent—too innocent—stare; her eyes followed Mrs. Vivian's. They met Bernard's for an instant, and for some reason, at this moment, Bernard flushed.
He rose quickly and walked away to the window, where he stood looking out into the darkness. "The devil—the devil!" he murmured to himself; "she doesn't even know we are to be married—Gordon hasn't been able to trust himself to tell her!" And this fact seemed pregnant with evidence as to Gordon's state of mind; it did not appear to simplify the situation. After a moment, while Bernard stood there with his back turned—he felt rather awkward and foolish—he heard Blanche begin with her little surprised voice.
"Ah, you are going away? You are going to travel? But that's charming; we can travel together. You are not going to travel? What, then, are you going to do? You are going back to America? Ah, but you mustn't do that, as soon as I come abroad; that's not nice or friendly, Mrs. Vivian, to your poor little old Blanche. You are not going back to America? Ah, then, I give it up! What's the great mystery? Is it something about Angela? There was always a mystery about Angela. I hope you won't mind my saying it, my dear; but I was always afraid of you. My husband—he admires you so much, you know—has often tried to explain you to me; but I have never understood. What are you going to do now? Are you going into a convent? Are you going to be—A-a-h!"
237
