“I feel highly honored,” replied Vance, “to think that Miss Bonifield should have spoken of me at all.” Bertha stopped and looked at Vance for a moment in silence, and then said: “Men are so conceited. There is no sentiment, I assure you, in Louise.” “Your frankness is quite charming, Miss Allen.” “Oh, do you think so?” said Bertha, with a sweet lisp. “Yes: and as to Miss Bonifield, I beg to differ from you. She certainly possesses in a high degree that sentiment peculiar to the children of nature. She loves all that is natural, and in the tenderness of her heart, pities the assumed.” [99] “How unfortunate, Mr. Gilder,” said Bertha, “that love is not reciprocal.” Before Vance could reply, Louise called to them and soon after she and Boast came up, declaring the day had been a great success. Arthur and Vance divided the catch equally, and soon with their baskets swinging from their shoulders, they started for home. Bertha was profuse in her invitations to Mr. Gilder to call, and he promised to do so. He was quite glad, however, when they finally separated and he had Louise all to himself. “I hope you have enjoyed the day as much as you anticipated, Mr. Gilder,” said Louise. “If I am anything,” replied Vance, “I am frank; and therefore confess I would have enjoyed it far more without Boast and his pretty cousin.” “I knew you would think her pretty,” said Louise; “everyone does.” “And do you think she is pretty?” asked Vance. “Yes, indeed,” replied Louise, “I have seen no one, even in your great city of New York, half so handsome as Bertha.” “You are certainly generous in your compliments,” said Vance. “Bertha has such a sweet way about her, and she always makes one feel so at his ease.” Before Vance had time to reply, Colonel Bonifield waved his pipe and blew out a cloud of smoke as an act of welcome to the returning fishermen. Vance displayed his long string of speckled beauties, and the Colonel assured him they had made a great success. “I have been thinkin’ of yo’ all day,” he continued, “and had half a mind, upon my honor I did, suh, to come oveh and help yo’ out.” [100] Soon after. Vance took leave of the Bonifields, and started for the hotel. His respect for generous-hearted Louise was increasing. “Yes,” said Vance to himself, “she is a child of nature. She does not know how to dissemble, and her heart is too pure to be resentful.” His pleasant reverie was broken by encountering Boast at the hotel, who had arrived a little before him. His shoes had been exchanged for polished ones, yet he complained about his negligee appearance, and stooped to brush the least speck of dust or cigar ashes that might have found lodgment on his trousers or coat sleeves, and kept assuring Vance that he knew he “looked rougher than a miner.” 9108