Acton, was not there, he must do it himself, for there was no time to be lost. Chandos did not mark her much; but merely telling her, if Lockwood returned, to say that he would be back in half-an-hour, he took up a light Dutch hoe, which stood in the corner of the cottage parlour, and went out to the garden. With a hand trembling with that sweet expectation which sometimes shakes the powerful frame even more than the feeble one, he opened the garden gate and went in. Close to the entrance he met one of the labourers in the garden, who wished him good evening, and said he was glad to see him, for the busy time was coming on. The man was going home for the night, and Chandos soon got rid of him, and of one of the boys who followed; for the sky was already very grey, and he feared that any delay might deprive him of the sweet moments coveted. He felt sure he should find Rose there. The very air seemed to breathe of love. She could not be absent. He was right. Rose was beside the marble basin, but her eyes were dropping tears into it. He leaned the hoe against one of the pillars, and her hand was soon in his. Chandos could not resist the impulse to hold her for one moment to his heart. "Oh, do not; do not, Chandos," she said. "I have much, very much to tell you; and it is all sad." "Speak, dear Rose," he answered; "let me hear it at once. Tell me everything; tell me anything but that you are not mine--that you are to be another's." "Oh, no; it is not that," she said, with a faint smile. "I have not time to tell you to-night, for you see it is growing quite dusk. Come to-morrow. I must see you--I must speak with you." "Oh, stay one minute!" cried her lover, detaining her; "let me know something, at least, of what it is that grieves you--but a few words, dear Rose." "They must be very sad ones," she answered. "My father is ruined, Chandos. My poor sister, dear, dear Emily, has consented, to save him from immediate destruction, to wed, with terrible haste, a man she does not, cannot love--your own brother, Chandos--and, oh!--what is worse than all--I fear, I am sure, she loves another;" and Rose wept bitterly. Chandos was silent for an instant, holding her hand in his, and gazing upon her with love and sympathy; but the next instant he heard voices speaking, and steps advancing, in the narrow winding walk behind. "Good Heaven, it is your brother!" cried Rose. "I hear his terrible voice. Fly! fly! Where can I escape him?" "Up that walk, dear girl," replied Chandos. "I will easily avoid him. I will leap the hedge there. But let me see you safe first."