Page:Confidence (London, Macmillan & Co., 1921).djvu/177

 the brilliant spectacle of the promenade in front of the gaming-rooms at Baden. It had neither the liberal illumination, the distinguished frequenters, nor the superior music which formed the attraction of that celebrated spot; but it had a modest animation of its own, in which the starlight on the open sea took the place of clustered lamps, and the loud murmur of the waves performed the function of an orchestra. Mrs. Vivian made her appearance with her daughter, and Bernard, as he used to do at Baden, chose a corner to place some chairs for them. The crowd was small, for most of the visitors had compressed themselves into one of the rooms where a shrill operetta was being performed by a strolling troupe. Mrs. Vivian's visit was a short one; she remained at the Casino less than half an hour. But Bernard had some talk with Angela. He sat beside her; her mother was on the other side, talking with an old French lady whose acquaintance she had made on the beach. Between Bernard and Angela a good many things were said. When his friends went away Bernard walked home with them. He bade them good-night at the door of their chalet, and then he slowly strolled back to the Casino. The terrace was nearly empty. Every one had gone to listen to the operetta, the sound of whose contemporary gaiety came through the open, hot-looking windows in little thin quavers and catches. The ocean was rumbling just beneath; it made a ruder but richer music. Bernard stood looking at it a moment; then he went down the steps to the beach. The tide was rather low; he walked slowly down to the line of the breaking waves. The sea looked huge and black and simple; everything was vague in the unassisted darkness. Bernard stood there some time; there was nothing but the sound and the sharp fresh smell. Suddenly he put his hand to his heart; it was 169