ed Bernard. "Our friend has
certainly money enough and to spare."

"That was all I meant. He once had occasion to allude to his property,
but he was so modest, so reserved in the tone he took about it, that one
hardly knew what to think."

"He is ashamed of being rich," said Bernard. "He would be sure to
represent everything unfavorably."

"That 's just what I thought!" This ejaculation was more eager than Mrs.
Vivian might have intended, but even had it been less so, Bernard was in
a mood to appreciate it. "I felt that we should make allowances for his
modesty. But it was in very good taste," Mrs. Vivian added.

"He 's a fortunate man," said Bernard. "He gets credit for his good
taste--and he gets credit for the full figure of his income as well!"

"Ah," murmured Mrs. Vivian, rising lightly, as if to make her words
appear more casual, "I don't know the full figure of his income."

She was turning away, and Bernard, as he raised his hat and separated
from her, felt that it was rather cruel that he should let her go
without enlightening her ignorance. But he said to himself that she knew
quite enough. Indeed, he took a walk along the Lichtenthal Alley and
carried out this line of reflection. Whether or no Miss Vivian were in
love with Gordon Wright, her mother was enamored of Gordon's fortune,
and it had suddenly occurred to her that instead of treating the friend
of her daughter's suitor with civil mistrust, she would help her case
better by giving him a hint of her state of mind and appealing to his
sense of propriety. Nothing could be more natural than that Mrs. Vivian
should suppose that Bernard desired his friend's success; for, as our
thoughtful hero said to himself, what she had hitherto taken it into her
head to fear was not that Bernard should fall in love with her daughter,
but that her daughter should fall in love with him. Watering-place life
is notoriously conducive to idleness of mind, and Bernard strolled for
half an hour along the overarched avenue, glancing alternately at these
two insupposable cases.

A few days afterward, late in the evening, Gordon Wright came to his
room at the hotel.

"I have just received a letter from my sister," he said. "I am afraid I
shall have to go away."

"Ah, I 'm sorry for that," said Bernard, who was so well pleased with
the actual that he desired no mutation.

"I mean only for a short time," Gordon explained. "My poor sister writes
from England, telling me th