"Dear Mrs. Vivian, you are a casuist, and this is a nice
case."
"Is it anything about poor Mr. Wright?" the elder lady inquired.
"Why do you say 'poor' Mr. Wright?" asked Bernard.
"Because I am sadly afraid he is not happy with Blanche."
"How did you discover that--without seeing them together?"
"Well, perhaps you will think me very fanciful," said Mrs. Vivian; "but
it was by the way he looked at Angela. He has such an expressive face."
"He looked at me very kindly, mamma," Angela observed.
"He regularly stared, my daughter. In any one else I should have said
it was rude. But his situation is so peculiar; and one could see that he
admired you still." And Mrs. Vivian gave a little soft sigh.
"Ah! she is thinking of the thirty thousand a year," Bernard said to
himself.
"I am sure I hope he admires me still," the girl cried, laughing. "There
is no great harm in that."
"He was comparing you with Blanche--and he was struck with the
contrast."
"It could n't have been in my favor. If it 's a question of being looked
at, Blanche bears it better than I."
"Poor little Blanche!" murmured Mrs. Vivian, sweetly.
"Why did you tell me he was so happy with her?" Angela asked, turning to
Bernard, abruptly.
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