One afternoon, when it was getting late, Anne went into High Street to buy some ribbon for her hair. Mrs. Lewis and her party had gone over to Croome, some one having given her an order to see the gardens there. Lake's house was as busy as it could be, some fresh inmates of consequence being expected that evening; Anne had been helping Miss Dinah, and it was only at the last minute she could run out. In coming back, the ribbon bought, close to the college gates she heard steps behind her, and found her arm touched. It was by Mr. Angerstyne. For the past two days--nearly three--he had been absent at Malvern. The sight of him was as if the sun had shone. "Oh!--is it you?--are you back again?" she cried, with as much quiet indifference as she could put on. "I have just arrived. My aunt is better. And how are you, Anne?" "Very well, thank you." "Need you go in yet? Let us take a short stroll. The afternoon is delightful." He called it afternoon, but it was getting on fast for evening: and he turned in at the college gates as he spoke. So they wound round St. Michael's Churchyard and passed on to the Dark Alley, and so down the long flight of steps that leads from it, and on to the banks of the Severn. "How are you all going on at Lake's?" he asked presently, breaking the silence. "Just as usual. To-day is a grand field-day," Anne added gaily: "at least, this evening is to be one, and we are not to dine until seven o'clock." "Seven? So much the better. But why?" "Some people of importance are coming----" Mr. Angerstyne's laugh interrupted her. She laughed also. "They are Miss Dinah's words: 'people of importance.' They will arrive late, so the dinner-hour is put off." "Take care, Anne!" A horse, towing a barge, was overtaking them. Mr. Angerstyne drew Anne out of the way, and the dinner and the new guests were forgotten. It was almost dusk when they returned. The figures on the college tower were darkened, as they came through the large boat-house gateway: the old elm-trees, filled with their cawing rooks, looked weird in the dim twilight. Mr. Angerstyne did not turn to the Dark Alley again, but went straight up to the Green. He was talking of his estate in Essex. It was a topic often chosen by him; and Anne seemed to know the place quite well by this time. "You would like the little stream that runs through the grounds," he was observing. "It is not, of course, like the grand river we have just left, but it is pleasant to wander by, for it winds in and out in the most picturesque manner possible, and the banks are overshadowed by trees. Yes, Anne, you would like that." "Are you going through the cloisters?--is it not too late?" she interrupted, quite at a loss for something to say; not caring to answer that she _should_ like to wander by the stream. For he was crossing towards the little south cloister door: though onwards through the Green would have been their more direct road.