as to the whereabouts of Mrs. Vivian.

"Gad, I believe they 've left the place--left the place without giving a
fellow warning!" cried Lovelock.

"Oh no, I think they are here still," said Bernard. "My friend Wright
has gone away for a week or two, but I suspect the ladies are simply
staying at home."

"Gad, I was afraid your friend Wright had taken them away with him; he
seems to keep them all in his pocket. I was afraid he had given them
marching orders; they 'd have been sure to go--they 're so awfully fond
of his pocket! I went to look them up yesterday--upon my word I did.
They live at a baker's in a little back-street; people do live in rum
places when they come abroad! But I assure you, when I got there, I 'm
damned if I could make out whether they were there or not. I don't speak
a word of German, and there was no one there but the baker's wife. She
was a low brute of a woman--she could n't understand a word I said,
though she gave me plenty of her own tongue. I had to give it up. They
were not at home, but whether they had left Baden or not--that was
beyond my finding out. If they are here, why the deuce don't they show?
Fancy coming to Baden-Baden to sit moping at a pastry-cook's!"

Captain Lovelock was evidently irritated, and it was Bernard's
impression that the turn of luck over yonder where the gold-pieces were
chinking had something to do with the state of his temper. But more
fortunate himself, he ascertained from the baker's wife that though Mrs.
Vivian and her daughter had gone out, their companion, "the youngest
lady--the little young lady"--was above in the sitting-room.