A day or two after, as Adeline was leaning on the arm of a young lady, Glenmurray passed them, and to his respectful bow she returned a most cordial salutation. 'Gracious me! my dear,' said her companion, 'do you know who that man is?' 'Certainly:--it is Mr Glenmurray.' 'And do you speak to him?' 'Yes:--why should I not?' 'Dear me! Why, I am sure! Why--don't you know what he is?' 'Yes, a celebrated writer, and a man of genius.' 'Oh, that may be, Miss Mowbray: but they say one should not notice him, because he is--' 'He is what?' said Adeline eagerly. 'I do not exactly know what; but I believe it is a French spy, or a Jesuit.' 'Indeed?' replied Adeline laughing. 'But I am used to have better evidence against a person than a _they say_ before I neglect an acknowledged acquaintance: therefore, with your leave, I shall turn back and talk a little to poor Mr Glenmurray.' It so happened that _poor Mr Glenmurray_ heard every word of this conversation; for he had turned round and followed Adeline and her fair companion, to present to the former the glove which she had dropped; and as they were prevented from proceeding by the crowd on the parade, which was assembled to see some unusual sight, he, being immediately behind them, could distinguish all that passed; so that Adeline turned round to go in search of him before the blush of grateful admiration for her kindness had left his cheek. 'Then she seeks me because I am shunned by others!' said Glenmurray to himself. In a moment the world to him seemed to contain only two beings, Adeline Mowbray and Frederic Glenmurray; and that Adeline, starting and blushing with joyful surprise at seeing him so near her, was then coming in search of him!--of him, the neglected Glenmurray! Scarcely could he refrain catching the lovely and ungloved hand next him to his heart; but he contented himself with keeping the glove that he was before so eager to restore, and in a moment it was lodged in his bosom. Nor could 'I can't think what I have done with my glove,' which every now and then escaped Adeline, prevail on him to own that he had found it. At last, indeed, it became unnecessary; for Adeline, as she glanced her eye towards Glenmurray, discovered it in the hiding-place: but, as delicacy forbade her to declare the discovery which she had made, he was suffered to retain his prize; though a deep and sudden blush which overspread his cheek, and a sudden pause which she made in her conversation, convinced Glenmurray that she had detected his secret. Perhaps he was not sorry--nor Adeline; but certain it is that Adeline was for the remainder of the morning more lost in reverie than ever her mother had been; and that from that day every one, but Adeline and Glenmurray, saw that they were mutually enamoured.