It was Commencement, and coming out of the quadrangle of St. John’s, Coningsby came suddenly upon Sir Joseph and Lady Wallinger, who were visiting the marvels and rarities of the university. They were alone. Coningsby was a little embarrassed, for he could not forget the abrupt manner in which he had parted from them; but they greeted him with so much cordiality that he instantly recovered himself, and, turning, became their companion. He hardly ventured to ask after Edith: at length, in a depressed tone and a hesitating manner, he inquired whether they had lately seen Miss Millbank. He was himself surprised at the extreme light-heartedness which came over him the moment he heard she was in England, at Millbank, with her family. He always very much liked Lady Wallinger, but this morning he hung over her like a lover, lavished on her unceasing and the most delicate attentions, seemed to exist only in the idea of making the Wallingers enjoy and understand Cambridge; and no one else was to be their guide at any place or under any circumstances. He told them exactly what they were to see; how they were to see it; when they were to see it. He told them of things which nobody did see, but which they should. He insisted that Sir Joseph should dine with him in hall; Sir Joseph could not think of leaving Lady Wallinger; Lady Wallinger could not think of Sir Joseph missing an opportunity that might never offer again. Besides, they might both join her after dinner. Except to give her husband a dinner, Coningsby evidently intended never to leave her side. And the next morning, the occasion favourable, being alone with the lady, Sir Joseph bustling about a carriage, Coningsby said suddenly, with a countenance a little disturbed, and in a low voice, ‘I was pleased, I mean surprised, to hear that there was still a Miss Millbank; I thought by this time she might have borne another name?’ Lady Wallinger looked at him with an expression of some perplexity, and then said, ‘Yes, Edith was much admired; but she need not be precipitate in marrying. Marriage is for a woman _the_ event. Edith is too precious to be carelessly bestowed.’ ‘But I understood,’ said Coningsby, ‘when I left Paris,’ and here, he became very confused, ‘that Miss Millbank was engaged, on the point of marriage.’ ‘With whom?’ ‘Our friend Sidonia.’ ‘I am sure that Edith would never marry Monsieur de Sidonia, nor Monsieur de Sidonia, Edith. ‘Tis a preposterous idea!’ said Lady Wallinger. ‘But he very much admired her?’ said Coningsby with a searching eye. ‘Possibly,’ said Lady Wallinger; ‘but he never even intimated his admiration.’ ‘But he was very attentive to Miss Millbank?’ ‘Not more than our intimate friendship authorised, and might expect.’ ‘You have known Sidonia a long time?’