HOW CHANCES MOCK 2 Henry IV., iii. 1. Maurice had seen Berenice only once since his encounter at the ball. He had hoped and dreaded to meet her, but for more than a week after his leaving the Clergy House he had failed. One morning he saw her walking before him on Beacon Street; and while he instantly said to himself that he trusted that she would not discover him, he hurried forward to overtake her. His feet carried him forward even while he told himself that he did not wish to go. He was beside her in a moment, and as he spoke she raised those rich, dark eyes with a glance which made him thrill. "Good-morning," he said with his heart beating as absurdly as if the encounter were of the highest consequence. "Good-morning, Mr. Wynne," she responded, with a manner entirely abstract. She had started and blushed, he was sure, on perceiving him; but if so she had instantly recovered her self-possession. He was disconcerted by the coldness of her manner, and began to wish in complete earnest that he had not overtaken her. "I beg your pardon for intruding," he said, his voice hardening, "but"-- "The public street is free to anybody, I suppose," she returned, with an air of studied politeness. "I don't claim any exclusive right to it." "I didn't apologize for being on the street, but for speaking to you." "Oh, that," answered Berenice carelessly, although he thought that he detected a spark of mischief in her eye, "is a thing of so little consequence that it isn't worth mentioning." "I venture to speak to you," he said, ignoring the thrust, "because I have wanted to beg your pardon for my rudeness when I saw you last." She turned upon him quickly, her cheeks aflame. "Your rudeness?" she exclaimed. "Your brutality, I think you mean!" It was his turn to grow red. "My brutality, if you choose. I beg your pardon for whatever offended." "It was unpardonable! It was a thing no woman could ever forgive!" Maurice turned pale. He stopped where he stood. "In that case," he said, bowing with formality, "I have no business to be speaking to you now." He turned and was gone before she could add a word. This interview probably made neither of the young persons happy; and Maurice it left entirely miserable. He was not without a proper pride, however, and in his present frame of mind was ready to call it to his aid. He bore a brave outward front. He resolved not to think of his love; yet he was not without the hardly confessed hope that if he could find the lost will he might be taking a step in the direction of the realization of his desires. He tried to forget Berenice in the very means he was taking to bring himself nearer to her.