A few broken words, threw light upon the matter. She had seen--she had just parted from Eugene. Arthur pressed no further question at the moment, but proposed taking her up-stairs to his chambers, to give her wine to recruit the poor girl's agitated spirits; but this Mary declined. She only wanted air; she felt suffocated by the heat and confinement of the carriage. She would like to get out, and walk home. But the brother would not agree to this. It would be much too far for her to walk just now. No, the carriage should wait, and they might take a few turns in the court and gardens. The students were all in Hall--they would be quite undisturbed. To the court then they accordingly proceeded, Mary leaning on her brother's arm, and the quiet refreshment of that quaint old spot, upon this mild spring evening; its fresh green grass plot, sparkling fountain and overhanging elms, just then putting forth their early shoots, and between which the venerable walls and buttresses, of the Temple Hall, revealed their sober beauties; the sweet notes of a thrush sounding from the garden below. All these combined, affording as it did, so strong a contrast to the din, stir, and turmoil from without, as well as the bewildering disquiet and agitation through which her mind had lately passed, did not fail to produce its soothing influence on poor Mary's nerves and spirits; and seated upon one of the benches of the court, she was able, with tolerable composure, to unburden the trouble of her heart to that dear, kind brother, till it became almost a soothing relief to dilate upon the distressing, and unsatisfactory nature of the late interview with her lover. Arthur listened sorrowfully and compassionately to his sister's melancholy relation of the blight, which had fallen on the unalloyed happiness of which he had found her in such full enjoyment on his return to England. He remembered her bright and happy countenance then--and the change it now exhibited, so touched and saddened the young man's feelings at the time, that he only held Mary's hand, and sympathized, soothed, and cheered with words of encouragement--neither expressing blame, anger, or suspicion, against the originating source of all this woe. But at length when Mary said: "And now, dear Arthur, I want you to assist me, I think something should be done--something ascertained--anything will be better than this miserable state of uncertainty and suspense," he looked up quickly with a sudden, impatient flash from his bright blue eye, and answered: "Yes indeed, Mary. I think so too, something must, and shall be done." "But listen to me dear Arthur," she continued mildly. "What I should wish to ascertain would be, whether, under the present circumstances of affairs--whatever they may be--Eugene's engagement to me, involves him in any unforseen trouble or annoyance; for," she added very sadly, "if I thought that were the case--"