he Fifth Avenue was
scattered over with dry leaves--crimson and orange and amber. He tossed
them with his stick as he passed; they rustled and murmured with the
motion, and it reminded him of the way he used to kick them in front of
him over these same pavements in his riotous infancy. It was a pleasure,
after many wanderings, to find himself in his native land again,
and Bernard Longueville, as he went, paid his compliments to his
mother-city. The brightness and gayety of the place seemed a greeting to
a returning son, and he felt a throb of affection for the freshest,
the youngest, the easiest and most good-natured of great capitals. On
presenting himself at Gordon's door, Bernard was told that the master of
the house was not at home; he went in, however, to see the mistress.
She was in her drawing-room, alone; she had on her bonnet, as if she had
been going out. She gave him a joyous, demonstrative little welcome; she
was evidently very glad to see him. Bernard had thought it possible she
had "improved," and she was certainly prettier than ever. He instantly
perceived that she was still a chatterbox; it remained to be seen
whether the quality of her discourse were finer.

"Well, Mr. Longueville," she exclaimed, "where in the world did you drop
from, and how long did it take you to cross the Atlantic? Three days,
eh? It could n't have taken you many more, for it was only the other day
that Gordon told me you were not to sail till the 20th. You changed
your mind, eh? I did n't know you ever changed your mind. Gordon never
changes his. That 's not a reason, eh, because you are not a bit like
Gordon. Well, I never thought you were, except that you are a man. Now
what are you laughing at? What should you like me call you? You are a
man, I suppose; you are not a god. That 's what you would like me
to call you, I have no doubt. I must keep that for Gordon? I shall
certainly keep it a good while. I know a good deal more about gentlemen
than I did when I last saw you, and I assure you I don't think they
are a bit god-like. I suppose that 's why you always drop down from the
sky--you think it 's more divine. I remember that 's the way you arrived
at Baden when we were there together; the first thing we knew, you
were standing in the midst of us. Do you remember that evening when you
presented yourself? You came up and touched Gordon on the shoulder, and
he gave a little jump. He will give another little jump when he sees you
t