d's little eternity, however, came to an end; Miss Vivian
dropped her eyes upon her book again. She let them rest upon it only a
moment; then she closed it and slowly rose from her chair, turning
away from Bernard. He still stood looking at her--stupidly, foolishly,
helplessly enough, as it seemed to him; no sign of recognition had been
exchanged. Angela Vivian hesitated a minute; she now had her back turned
to him, and he fancied her light, flexible figure was agitated by her
indecision. She looked along the sunny beach which stretched its shallow
curve to where the little bay ended and the white wall of the cliffs
began. She looked down toward the sea, and up toward the little Casino
which was perched on a low embankment, communicating with the beach at
two or three points by a short flight of steps. Bernard saw--or supposed
he saw--that she was asking herself whither she had best turn to avoid
him. He had not blushed when she looked at him--he had rather turned
a little pale; but he blushed now, for it really seemed odious to have
literally driven the poor girl to bay. Miss Vivian decided to take
refuge in the Casino, and she passed along one of the little pathways
of planks that were laid here and there across the beach, and directed
herself to the nearest flight of steps. Before she had gone two paces
a complete change came over Bernard's feeling; his only wish now was
to speak to her--to explain--to tell her he would go away. There was
another row of steps at a short distance behind him; he rapidly ascended
them and reached the little terrace of the Casino. Miss Vivian stood
there; she was apparently hesitating again which way to turn. Bernard
came straight up to her, with a gallant smile and a greeting. The
comparison is a coarse one, but he felt that he was taking the bull by
the horns. Angela Vivian stood watching him arrive.

"You did n't recognize me," he said, "and your not recognizing me made
me--made me hesitate."

For a moment she said nothing, and then--

"You are more timid than you used to be!" she answered.

He could hardly have said what expression he had expected to find in her
face; his apprehension had, perhaps, not painted her obtrusively pale
and haughty, aggressively cold and stern; but it had figured something
different from the look he encountered. Miss Vivian was simply
blushing--that was what Bernard mainly perceived; he saw that her
surprise had been extreme--complete. Her blush was re-