He has all the air of it."

"I am very glad to hear it," she repeated. And then she moved the latch
of the gate and passed in. At the same moment her mother appeared in the
open door-way. Mrs. Vivian had apparently been summoned by the sound
of her daughter's colloquy with an unrecognized voice, and when she saw
Bernard she gave a sharp little cry of surprise. Then she stood gazing
at him.

Since the dispersion of the little party at Baden-Baden he had not
devoted much meditation to this conscientious gentlewoman who had been
so tenderly anxious to establish her daughter properly in life; but
there had been in his mind a tacit assumption that if Angela deemed that
he had played her a trick Mrs. Vivian's view of his conduct was not more
charitable. He felt that he must have seemed to her very unkind, and
that in so far as a well-regulated conscience permitted the exercise of
unpractical passions, she honored him with a superior detestation.
The instant he beheld her on her threshold this conviction rose to the
surface of his consciousness and made him feel that now, at least, his
hour had come.

"It is Mr. Longueville, whom we met at Baden," said Angela to her
mother, gravely.

Mrs. Vivian began to smile, and stepped down quickly toward the gate.

"Ah, Mr. Longueville," she murmured, "it 's so long--it 's so
pleasant--it 's so strange--"

And suddenly she stopped, still smiling. Her smile had an odd intensity;
she was trembling a little, and Bernard, who was prepared for hissing
scorn, perceived with a deep, an almost violent, surprise, a touching
agitation, an eager friendliness.

"Yes, it 's very long," he said; "it 's very pleasant. I have only just
arrived; I met Miss Vivian."

"And you are not coming in?" asked Angela's mother, very graciously.

"Your daughter has not asked me!" said Bernard.

"Ah, my dearest," murmured Mrs. Vivian, looking at the girl.

Her daughter returned her glance, and then the elder lady paused again,
and simply began to smile at Bernard, who recognized in her glance that
queer little intimation--shy and cautious, yet perfectly discernible--of
a desire to have a private understanding with what he felt that she
mentally termed his better nature, which he had more than once perceived
at Baden-Baden.

"Ah no, she has not asked me," Bernard repeated, laughing gently.

Then Angela turned her eyes upon him, and the expression of those fine
organs was strikingly agreeable. It had, mo