The lighted windows of the Kursaal still glittered in the bosky darkness, and the lamps along the terrace had not been extinguished; but the great promenade was almost deserted; here and there only a lingering couple--the red tip of a cigar and the vague radiance of a light dress--gave animation to the place.

But Bernard sat there still in his tilted chair, beneath his orange-tree; his imagination had wandered very far and he was awaiting its return to the fold.

He was on the point of rising, however, when he saw three figures come down the empty vista of the terrace--figures which even at a distance had a familiar air.

He immediately left his seat and, taking a dozen steps, recognized Angela Vivian, Blanche Evers and Captain Lovelock.

In a moment he met them in the middle of the terrace.
Blanche immediately announced that they had come for a midnight walk.
"And if you think it 's improper," she exclaimed, "it 's not my invention--it 's Miss Vivian's." "I beg pardon--it 's mine," said Captain Lovelock.