“That ‘s a very pertinent question. Does n’t it occur to you that you may have reason to be jealous--leaving me alone, with an open field, with the woman of your choice?” “I wish to heaven I could be jealous!” Gordon exclaimed. “That would simplify the thing--that would give me a lift.” And the next day, after some more talk, it seemed really with a hope of this contingency--though, indeed, he laughed about it--that he started for England. CHAPTER XI For the three or four days that followed Gordon Wright’s departure, Bernard saw nothing of the ladies who had been committed to his charge. They chose to remain in seclusion, and he was at liberty to interpret this fact as an expression of regret at the loss of Gordon’s good offices. He knew other people at Baden, and he went to see them and endeavored, by cultivating their society, to await in patience the re-appearance of Mrs. Vivian and her companions. But on the fourth day he became conscious that other people were much less interesting than the trio of American ladies who had lodgings above the confectioner’s, and he made bold to go and knock at their door. He had been asked to take care of them, and this function presupposed contact. He had met Captain Lovelock the day before, wandering about with a rather crest-fallen aspect, and the young Englishman had questioned him eagerly as to the whereabouts of Mrs. Vivian. “Gad, I believe they ‘ve left the place--left the place without giving a fellow warning!” cried Lovelock. “Oh no, I think they are here still,” said Bernard. “My friend Wright has gone away for a week or two, but I suspect the ladies are simply staying at home.” “Gad, I was afraid your friend Wright had taken them away with him; he seems to keep them all in his pocket. I was afraid he had given them marching orders; they ‘d have been sure to go--they ‘re so awfully fond of his pocket! I went to look them up yesterday--upon my word I did. They live at a baker’s in a little back-street; people do live in rum places when they come abroad! But I assure you, when I got there, I ‘m damned if I could make out whether they were there or not. I don’t speak a word of German, and there was no one there but the baker’s wife. She was a low brute of a woman--she could n’t understand a word I said, though she gave me plenty of her own tongue. I had to give it up. They were not at home, but whether they had left Baden or not--that was beyond my finding out. If they are here, why the deuce don’t they show? Fancy coming to Baden-Baden to sit moping at a pastry-cook’s!” Captain Lovelock was evidently irritated, and it was Bernard’s impression that the turn of luck over yonder where the gold-pieces were chinking had something to do with the state of his temper. But more fortunate himself, he ascertained from the baker’s wife that though Mrs. Vivian and her daughter had gone out, their companion, “the youngest lady--the little young lady”--was above in the sitting-room.