CONFIDENCE
gentleman seated close to the old lady, and who, turning away from her, was talking to a young girl. It was nothing but the back of the gentleman that he saw, but nevertheless, with the instinct of true friendship, he recognised in this featureless expanse the robust personality of Gordon Wright.
In a moment he had stepped forward and laid his hand upon Wright's shoulder.
His friend looked round, and then sprang up with a joyous exclamation and grasp of the hand.
"My dear fellow—my dear Bernard! What on earth—when did you arrive?"
While Bernard answered and explained a little, he glanced from his friend's good, gratified face at the young girl with whom Wright had been talking, and then at the lady on the other side, who was giving him a bright little stare. He raised his hat to her and to the young girl, and he became conscious, as regards the latter, of a certain disappointment. She was very pretty; she was looking at him; but she was not the heroine of the little incident of the terrace at Siena.
"It's just like Longueville, you know," Gordon Wright went on; "he always comes at you from behind; he's so awfully fond of surprises." He was laughing; he was greatly pleased; he introduced Bernard to the two ladies. "You must know Mrs. Vivian; you must know Miss Blanche Evers."
Bernard took his place in the little circle; he wondered whether he ought to venture upon a special recognition of Mrs. Vivian. Then it seemed to him that he should leave the option of this step with the lady, especially as he had detected recognition in her eye. But Mrs. Vivian ventured upon nothing special; she contented herself with soft generalities—with remarking that she always liked to know when people would arrive, that, for herself, she never enjoyed surprises.
22
