“Yes, in two minutes’ talk. I should n’t hesitate about her now!” “It ‘s better you should n’t say that,” said Bernard. “Why should n’t I say it? It seems to me it ‘s my duty to say it.” “No--your duty lies elsewhere,” said Bernard. “There are two reasons. One is that you have married another woman.” “What difference does that make?” cried Gordon. Bernard made no attempt to answer this inquiry; he simply went on-- “The other is--the other is--” But here he paused. “What is the other?” Gordon asked. “That I am engaged to marry Miss Vivian.” And with this Bernard took his hand off Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon stood staring. “To marry Miss Vivian?” Now that Bernard had heard himself say it, audibly, distinctly, loudly, the spell of his apprehension seemed broken, and he went on bravely. “We are to be married very shortly. It has all come about within a few weeks. It will seem to you very strange--perhaps you won’t like it. That ‘s why I have hesitated to tell you.” Gordon turned pale; it was the first time Bernard had ever seen him do so; evidently he did not like it. He stood staring and frowning. “Why, I thought--I thought,” he began at last--“I thought that you disliked her!” “I supposed so, too,” said Bernard. “But I have got over that.” Gordon turned away, looking up the great avenue into the crowd. Then turning back, he said-- “I am very much surprised.” “And you are not pleased!” Gordon fixed his eyes on the ground a moment. “I congratulate you on your engagement,” he said at last, looking up with a face that seemed to Bernard hard and unnatural. “It is very good of you to say that, but of course you can’t like it! I was sure you would n’t like it. But what could I do? I fell in love with her, and I could n’t run away simply to spare you a surprise. My dear Gordon,” Bernard added, “you will get used to it.” “Very likely,” said Gordon, dryly. “But you must give me time.” “As long as you like!” Gordon stood for a moment again staring down at the ground. “Very well, then, I will take my time,” he said. “Good-bye!” And he turned away, as if to walk off alone. “Where are you going?” asked Bernard, stopping him. “I don’t know--to the hotel, anywhere. To try to get used to what you have told me.” “Don’t try too hard; it will come of itself,” said Bernard. “We shall see!” And Gordon turned away again. “Do you prefer to go alone?” “Very much--if you will excuse me!” “I have asked you to excuse a greater want of ceremony!” said Bernard, smiling. “I have not done so yet!” Gordon rejoined; and marching off, he mingled with the crowd. Bernard watched him till he lost sight of him, and then, dropping into the first empty chair that he saw, he sat and reflected that his friend liked it quite as little as he had feared. CHAPTER XXVI