The effort, doubtless, kept the movement from being either as light or as swift as it might have been, and it vaguely attracted his neighbor's attention. She turned her head and glanced at him, with a glance that evidently expected but to touch him and pass.
It touched him, and it was on the point of passing; then it suddenly checked itself; she had recognized him. She looked at him, straight and open-eyed, out of the shadow of her parasol, and Bernard stood there--motionless now--receiving her gaze.
How long it lasted need not be narrated. It was probably a matter of a few seconds, but to Bernard it seemed a little eternity.
He met her eyes, he looked straight into her face; now that she had seen him he could do nothing else. Bernard's little eternity, however, came to an end; Miss Vivian dropped her eyes upon her book again.
She let them rest upon it only a moment; then she closed it and slowly rose from her chair, turning away from Bernard.
He still stood looking at her--stupidly, foolishly, helplessly enough, as it seemed to him; no sign of recognition had been exchanged.
Angela Vivian hesitated a minute; she now had her back turned to him, and he fancied her light, flexible figure was agitated by her indecision.
She looked along the sunny beach which stretched its shallow curve to where the little bay ended and the white wall of the cliffs began.
She looked down toward the sea, and up toward the little Casino which was perched on a low embankment, communicating with the beach at two or three points by a short flight of steps. Bernard saw--or supposed he saw--that she was asking herself whither she had best turn to avoid him. He had not blushed when she looked at him--he had rather turned a little pale; but he blushed now, for it really seemed odious to have literally driven the poor girl to bay.
Miss Vivian decided to take refuge in the Casino, and she passed along one of the little pathways of planks that were laid here and there across the beach, and directed herself to the nearest flight of steps. Before she had gone two paces a complete change came over Bernard's feeling; his only wish now was to speak to her--to explain--to tell her he would go away. There was another row of steps at a short distance behind him; he rapidly ascended them and reached the little terrace of the Casino. Miss Vivian stood there; she was apparently hesitating again which way to turn.
Bernard came straight up to her, with a gallant smile and a greeting.
The comparison is a coarse one, but he felt that he was taking the bull by the horns. Angela Vivian stood watching him arrive.
"You did n't recognize me," he said, "and your not recognizing me made me--made me hesitate."
For a moment she said nothing, and then--"You are more timid than you used to be!" she answered.
He could hardly have said what expression he had expected to find in her face; his apprehension had, perhaps, not painted her obtrusively pale and haughty, aggressively cold and stern; but it had figured something different from the look he encountered. Miss Vivian was simply blushing--that was what Bernard mainly perceived; he saw that her surprise had been extreme--complete.
Her blush was re-assuring; it contradicted the idea of impatient resentment, and Bernard took some satisfaction in noting that it was prolonged.
"Yes, I am more timid than I used to be," he said.
In spite of her blush, she continued to look at him very directly; but she had always done that--she always met one's eye; and Bernard now instantly found all the beauty that he had ever found before in her pure, unevasive glance.
"I don't know whether I am more brave," she said; "but I must tell the truth--I instantly recognized you."
