Happily for Evan, she was not ready with her packing by half-past eleven. It was near twelve when he, pacing in front of the inn, observed Polly Wheedle, followed some yards in the rear by John Raikes, advancing towards him. Now Polly had been somewhat delayed by Jack's persecutions, and Evan declining to attend to the masked speech of her mission, which directed him to go at once down a certain lane in the neighbourhood of the park, some minutes were lost. 'Why, Mr. Harrington,' said Polly, 'it's Miss Rose: she's had leave from her Ma. Can you stop away, when it's quite proper?' Evan hesitated. Before he could conquer the dark spirit, lo, Rose appeared, walking up the village street. Polly and her adorer fell back. Timidly, unlike herself, Rose neared him. 'I have offended you, Evan. You would not come to me: I have come to you.' 'I am glad to be able to say good-bye to you, Rose,' was his pretty response. Could she have touched his hand then, the blood of these lovers rushing to one channel must have made all clear. At least he could hardly have struck her true heart with his miserable lie. But that chance was lost they were in the street, where passions have no play. 'Tell me, Evan,--it is not true.' He, refining on his misery, thought, She would not ask it if she trusted me: and answered her: 'You have heard it from your mother, Rose.' 'But I will not believe it from any lips but yours, Evan. Oh, speak, speak!' It pleased him to think: How could one who loved me believe it even then? He said: 'It can scarcely do good to make me repeat it, Rose.' And then, seeing her dear bosom heave quickly, he was tempted to fall on his knees to her with a wild outcry of love. The chance was lost. The inexorable street forbade it. There they stood in silence, gasping at the barrier that divided them. Suddenly a noise was heard. 'Stop! stop!' cried the voice of John Raikes. 'When a lady and gentleman are talking together, sir, do you lean your long ears over them--ha?' Looking round, Evan beheld Laxley a step behind, and Jack rushing up to him, seizing his collar, and instantly undergoing ignominious prostration for his heroic defence of the privacy of lovers. 'Stand aside'; said Laxley, imperiously. 'Rosey so you've come for me. Take my arm. You are under my protection.' Another forlorn 'Is it true?' Rose cast toward Evan with her eyes. He wavered under them. 'Did you receive my letter?' he demanded of Laxley. 'I decline to hold converse with you,' said Laxley, drawing Rose's hand on his arm. 'You will meet me to-day or to-morrow?' 'I am in the habit of selecting my own company.' Rose disengaged her hand. Evan grasped it. No word of farewell was uttered. Her mouth moved, but her eyes were hard shut, and nothing save her hand's strenuous pressure, equalling his own, told that their parting had been spoken, the link violently snapped.