Thus fretting and worrying himself he finished dressing, and, making his way quietly down stairs, effected his exit unobserved. Fancying he was late he started at a brisk walk, and having crossed the open part of the park, reached a stile at the entrance of a grass-grown footpath overshadowed with trees. Before entering this he looked at his watch, and found that instead of too late he was too early, by nearly half an hour; accordingly, getting leisurely over the stile, he strolled onward in the direction of a rustic bench, which he remembered to have seen some short distance farther up the path, where, if the truth must be told, he proposed to console himself with a cigar. As he came in sight of this bench he perceived that it was occupied, and a second glance was scarcely needed to convince him that the occupant was Alice. For a moment he was perplexed as to what course to take, whether to join her, or to retrace his steps, and avoid a meeting which he felt, under the circumstances, must necessarily be most embarrassing. Perceiving that the young lady’s head was turned in the opposite direction, and that she had therefore not yet seen him, he drew back a pace or two, so as to place the trunk of a towering elm between them. “What shall I do?” thought Harry; “I have not an idea what to say to her that would be likely to be of any use; in fact, there’s nothing to be said. She has accepted old Crane, and now she’s come here to meet Arthur, tell him what she’s done, say she could not help it, and ask him to forgive her and make the best of it. I shall be _de trop_ evidently, so the best thing I can do is to jog back again; and yet--and yet I should like to walk by her side, and look into her dear blue eyes once more--heigho! I almost wish my dream would come true, only reversed, and that I were the pheasant and Crane going to shoot me, though I should not be in much danger, for the old muff would be safe to miss me. Well, I suppose I’d better be off--is she there still? yes, but what is she doing--crying?--why by heaven she’s crying as if her heart would break! Oh, you know I can’t stand this, so it’s no use thinking any more about it; speak to her I must and will!” And, suiting the action to the word, he was about to spring forward and join her, when it occurred to him that it would only distress and annoy her if he were to obtrude his presence upon her when, imagining herself alone, she was unrestrainedly giving way to her grief; so, with that tact springing from innate delicacy of feeling which prevented Coverdale’s honest, straightforward character from ever becoming rough or overbearing, he waited till poor Alice had dried her tears, and with slow, listless footsteps (sadly different from her usual bounding and elastic gait) resumed her walk in the direction of the railway-station. As soon as she was fairly started Harry emerged from his hiding-place, and followed her with vigorous strides.