This was an idle and unpractical question, inasmuch as the answer was not forthcoming; whereas it was quite simple and conclusive to say, without the note of interrogation, that she was, in spite of many attractive points, an abrupt and capricious young woman.

During the three or four days in question, Bernard lingered on at Baden, uncertain what to do or where to go, feeling as if he had received a sudden check--a sort of spiritual snub--which arrested the accumulation of motive.

Lovelock, also, whom Bernard saw every day, appeared to think that destiny had given him a slap in the face, for he had not enjoyed the satisfaction of a last interview with Miss Evers.
"I thought she might have written me a note," said the Captain; "but it appears she does n't write.

Some girls don't write, you know." Bernard remarked that it was possible Lovelock would still have news of Miss Blanche; and before he left Baden he learned that she had addressed her forsaken swain a charming little note from Lausanne, where the three ladies had paused in their flight from Baden, and where Mrs.Vivian had decreed that for the present they should remain.
"I 'm devilish glad she writes," said Captain Lovelock; "some girls do write, you know." Blanche found Lausanne most horrid after Baden, for whose delights she languished.

The delights of Baden, however, were not obvious just now to her correspondent, who had taken Bernard's fifty pounds into the Kursaal and left them there.