She gave a little laugh, but she said nothing more, and Bernard gave no further account of his plan. They went and sat down near Mrs. Vivian for ten minutes, and then they got up again and strolled to another part of the garden. They had it all to themselves, and it was filled with things that Bernard liked--inequalities of level, with mossy steps connecting them, rose-trees trained upon old brick walls, horizontal trellises arranged like Italian pergolas, and here and there a towering poplar, looking as if it had survived from some more primitive stage of culture, with its stiff boughs motionless and its leaves forever trembling. They made almost the whole circuit of the garden, and then Angela mentioned very quietly that she had heard that morning from Mr. Wright, and that he would not return for another week. “You had better stay,” she presently added, as if Gordon’s continued absence were an added reason. “I don’t know,” said Bernard. “It is sometimes difficult to say what one had better do.” I hesitate to bring against him that most inglorious of all charges, an accusation of sentimental fatuity, of the disposition to invent obstacles to enjoyment so that he might have the pleasure of seeing a pretty girl attempt to remove them. But it must be admitted that if Bernard really thought at present that he had better leave Baden, the observation I have just quoted was not so much a sign of this conviction as of the hope that his companion would proceed to gainsay it. The hope was not disappointed, though I must add that no sooner had it been gratified than Bernard began to feel ashamed of it. “This certainly is not one of those cases,” said Angela. “The thing is surely very simple now.” “What makes it so simple?” She hesitated a moment. “The fact that I ask you to stay.” “You ask me?” he repeated, softly. “Ah,” she exclaimed, “one does n’t say those things twice!” She turned away, and they went back to her mother, who gave Bernard a wonderful little look of half urgent, half remonstrant inquiry. As they left the garden he walked beside Mrs. Vivian, Angela going in front of them at a distance. The elder lady began immediately to talk to him of Gordon Wright. “He ‘s not coming back for another week, you know,” she said. “I am sorry he stays away so long.” “Ah yes,” Bernard answered, “it seems very long indeed.” And it had, in fact, seemed to him very long. “I suppose he is always likely to have business,” said Mrs. Vivian. “You may be very sure it is not for his pleasure that he stays away.” “I know he is faithful to old friends,” said Mrs. Vivian. “I am sure he has not forgotten us.” “I certainly count upon that,” Bernard exclaimed--“remembering him as we do!” Mrs. Vivian glanced at him gratefully.