As she turned away, without looking at him, he saw that her pure young breast was filled with a grief he must not intrude upon. And at the same moment he caught a glimpse through the trees of some one coming. So he lifted his smart Glengarry cap, and in sad perplexity strode away. But over his shoulder he softly said--"I shall come again--you must let me do that--I am sure that I can help you." The young lady made no answer; but turned as soon as she thought he was out of sight, and wistfully looked after him. "Here comes that Miss Patch, of course," she said. "I wonder whether she has spied him out. Her eyes are always everywhere." "Oh, my darling child," cried Miss Patch, an elderly lady of great dignity; "I had no idea you were gone so far. Come in, I beg of you, come this moment; what has excited you like this?" "Nothing at all. At least, I mean, I am not in the least excited. Oh! look at the beautiful sunset!" Miss Patch, with deep gravity, took out her spectacles, placed them on her fine Roman nose, and gazed eastward to watch the sunset. "Oh dear no! not there," cried her charge in a hurry; "here, it is all in this direction." "I thought that I saw a spotted dog," the lady answered, still gazing steadily down the side of the forest by which the youth had made his exit; "a spotted dog, Grace, I am almost sure." "Yes, I dare say. I believe that there is a dog with some spots in the neighbourhood." CHAPTER XVI. A GRAND SMOCK-FROCK. Upon the Saturday after this, being market-day at Oxford, Zacchary Cripps was in and out with the places and the people, as busy as the best of them. The number of things that he had to do used to set his poor brain buzzing; until he went into the Bar--not the grand one, but the Hostler's Bar, at the Golden Cross--and left dry froth at the bottom of a pewter quart measure of find old ale. At this flitting trace of exhaustion he always gazed for a moment as if he longed to behold just such another, and then, with a sigh of self-dedication to all the great duties before him, out he pulled his leather bag, and counted fourpence four times over (without any multiplication thereof, but a desire to have less subtraction), and then he generally shook his head, in penitence at his own love of good ale, and the fugitive fate of the passion. The last step was to deposit his fourpence firmly upon the metal counter, challenging all the bad pence and half-pence pilloried there as a warning; and then with a glance at the barmaid Sally, to encourage her still to hope for him, away went Cripps to the duties of the day.