"My dear child," said Mrs. Vivian, "we should be delighted to have you pay us a visit, and we should be so happy if we could do you any good.
But I am afraid you would very soon get tired of us, and I ought to tell you, frankly, that our little home is to be--a broken up.
You know there is to be a--a change," the good lady continued, with a hesitation which apparently came from a sense of walking on uncertain ground, while she glanced with a smile at Bernard and Angela.
Blanche sat there with her little excited, yet innocent--too innocent--stare; her eyes followed Mrs. Vivian's. They met Bernard's for an instant, and for some reason, at this moment, Bernard flushed.
He rose quickly and walked away to the window where he stood looking out into the darkness. "The devil--the devil!" he murmured to himself; "she does n't even know we are to be married--Gordon has n't been able to trust himself to tell her!"
And this fact seemed pregnant with evidence as to Gordon's state of mind; it did not appear to simplify the situation.
After a moment, while Bernard stood there with his back turned--he felt rather awkward and foolish--he heard Blanche begin with her little surprised voice.
"Ah, you are going away? You are going to travel? But that 's charming; we can travel together. You are not going to travel?
What then are you going to do? You are going back to America?
Ah, but you must n't do that, as soon as I come abroad; that 's not nice or friendly, Mrs. Vivian, to your poor little old Blanche.
You are not going back to America? Ah, then, I give it up!
What 's the great mystery? Is it something about Angela?
There was always a mystery about Angela. I hope you won't mind my saying it, my dear; but I was always afraid of you.
My husband--he admires you so much, you know--has often tried to explain you to me; but I have never understood.
What are you going to do now? Are you going into a convent?
Are you going to be--A-a-h!"
And, suddenly, quickly, interrupting herself, Mrs. Gordon gave a long, wondering cry. Bernard heard her spring to her feet, and the two other ladies rise from their seats. Captain Lovelock got up as well; Bernard heard him knock over his little gilded chair.
There was a pause, during which Blanche went through a little mute exhibition of amazement and pleasure. Bernard turned round, to receive half a dozen quick questions.
"What are you hiding away for? What are you blushing for?
I never saw you do anything like that before! Why do you look so strange, and what are you making me say? Angela, is it true--is there something like that?" Without waiting for the answer to this last question, Blanche threw herself upon Mrs. Vivian.
"My own Mrs. Vivian," she cried, "is she married?"
"My dear Blanche," said Bernard, coming forward, "has not Gordon told you?
Angela and I are not married, but we hope to be before long. Gordon only knew it this morning; we ourselves have only known it a short time. There is no mystery about it, and we only want your congratulations."
"Well, I must say you have been very quiet about it!" cried Blanche.
"When I was engaged, I wrote you all a letter."
"By Jove, she wrote to me!" observed Captain Lovelock.
Angela went to her and kissed her.
"Your husband does n't seem to have explained me very successfully!"
Mrs. Gordon held Bernard's intended for a moment at arm's length, with both her hands, looking at her with eyes of real excitement and wonder.