By mid-day she was gone, Pauline attending her, and Mr. Chandos escorting her to the station. I was left, with the words I had heard spoken, as to my unwelcome presence in the house, beating their refrain on my brain. Whether Lady Chandos remonstrated privately with her daughter against leaving me or whether she recognised it as a sort of necessity, and tacitly acquiesced in the arrangement, I had no means of knowing. What was I to do with myself? Put on my things and go out? There was nothing else to do. As I came down with them on, Lady Chandos met me in the hall. "Are you going abroad, Miss Hereford?" "If you have no objection, madam. But I was only going because I felt at a loss for something to occupy myself with. Perhaps you can give me something to do, Lady Chandos?" "I cannot aid you, I believe. It is a pity Madame de Mellissie should have left you here, for I fear you will find it dull; but I suppose there was no help for it. I speak for your sake, my dear," she kindly added. "I should be so glad to do anything for you. I can sew." "My maids do the sewing," she said. "You will find some pleasant walks in the vicinity. There is one to the left, as you leave the gates, exceedingly rural and quiet. You will be quite safe; it is an honest neighbourhood." I found the walk she spoke of and stayed out for nearly two hours. Not a single house, but one, did I pass. I found afterwards that what few houses there were lay to the right. This one stood in view of the entrance gates, nearly opposite to the lodge; a substantial, moderate-sized house, closed at present, and displaying a board—"To Let." I had half a mind to open its front gate and explore the garden, but I had been out long enough, and turned to Chandos. I was not to go home without an adventure. In passing through the small iron gate, by the side of the large ones, an awfully fierce great dog sprang forward, savagely barking. Back I flew, and shut the gate between us: why he did not leap over the gate, I don't know: he stood there barking, and rattling part of a chain that was attached to his collar. Never having been brought into contact with dogs, I was terribly afraid of fierce ones, and cowered there in an agony of fear, not daring to run away, lest the angry animal should leap the gate and spring upon me. Footsteps came behind me, and I looked round, hoping for protection. It was Mr. Chandos. He saw what was the matter, and seemed to make but one bound to the gate. "Stay there, Miss Hereford!" He passed quietly through, and confronted the dog; the dog confronted him, barking still. "Nero!" The voice allayed the angry passions, and the dog stepped up. Mr. Chandos seized the end of the chain. "You and I must have a settling for this, Nero. Will you come here, Miss Hereford, and I will teach him to know you, so that he does not alarm you again, should he get loose. He must have broken his chain." "Oh, sir! Pray do not make me come near him!"