o Bernard's perception Blanche, at least,
was always Blanche; she was a person in whom it would not have occurred
to him to expect any puzzling variation, and the tone of her little,
soft, thin voice instantly rang in his ear like an echo of yesterday's
talk. He had already remarked to himself that after however long
an interval one might see Blanche, she re-appeared with an air of
familiarity. This was in some sense, indeed, a proof of the agreeable
impression she made, and she looked exceedingly pretty as she now
suddenly stopped on seeing our two gentlemen, and gave a little cry of
surprise.

"Ah! I did n't know you were here. They never told me. Have you been
waiting a long time? How d' ye do? You must think we are polite."
She held out her hand to Bernard, smiling very graciously. At Captain
Lovelock she barely glanced. "I hope you are very well," she went on to
Longueville; "but I need n't ask that. You 're as blooming as a rose.
What in the world has happened to you? You look so brilliant--so fresh.
Can you say that to a man--that he looks fresh? Or can you only say that
about butter and eggs?"

"It depends upon the man," said Captain Lovelock. "You can't say that a
man 's fresh who spends his time in running about after you!"

"Ah, are you here?" cried Blanche with another little cry of surprise.
"I did n't notice you--I thought you were the waiter. This is what
he calls running about after me," she added, to Bernard; "coming to
breakfast without being asked. How queerly they have arranged the
table!" she went on, gazing with her little elevated eyebrows at this
piece of furniture. "I always thought that in Paris, if they could
n't do anything else, they could arrange a table. I don't like that
at all--those horrid little dishes on each side! Don't you think those
things ought to be off the table, Mr. Longueville? I don't like to see
a lot of things I 'm not eating. And I told them to have some
flowers--pray, where are the flowers? Do they call those things
flowers? They look as if they had come out of the landlady's bonnet! Mr.
Longueville, do look at those objects."

"They are not like me--they are not very fresh," laughed Bernard.

"It 's no great matter--we have not got to eat them," growled Captain
Lovelock.

"I should think you would expect to--with the luncheon you usually
make!" rejoined Blanche. "Since you are here, though I did n't ask you,
you might as well make yourself useful. Will you be so