"All I knew, Mary; with him I felt reserve to be both useless and unnecessary. He listened to my intelligence with the greatest interest and attention, but in silence, and almost immediately after, arose to take his leave. I ventured to add, that I was sure it would have given you pleasure to have seen him. He shook his head with a sad smile, and said, 'he had seen _you_ more than once since you came to London.' Dear Mary, you seem as if doomed to mystery in your lovers; and shall I tell you something more singular still? I was much struck by something in Temple which strongly reminded me of Trevor. Not exactly feature, and not at all expression, but a something I cannot well define." Mary sadly shook her head. There had been at times some vague impression of the same kind made upon her own mind; but at present fancy was too languid to realise the suggestion. They returned to the carriage, for though the early dinner-hour of their kind, old-fashioned relations had been deferred expressly for their nephew's convenience, they almost feared that they should even now have trespassed on the good old people's consideration. But Mary regretfully parted from the calm and silent spot, over which the shades of evening were now fast gathering, imparting a still greater air of solemn tranquillity to the scene. And often in days to come, when the poignant anguish then and there so softened and assuaged, had again died away, never to be recalled by the powers of memory--the place, and the hour, would float back upon her recollection--like the oasis amidst the parching sterility of the desert, to the grateful traveller--divested of all but their vague soothing and pleasurable associations. On their way back to Arthur's chamber door, they fell in with several of his fellow students, just coming out of Hall. They all respectfully stepped aside, and made way for "Seaham and his sister." Arthur had already rendered himself not only a most popular and general favourite, but much respected, member of the Temple community, by his sociable, engaging--yet at the same time, steady, gentlemanly, and superior conduct and deportment. CHAPTER VII. Oh, what authority and show of truth Can cunning sin cover itself withal! SHAKESPEARE. Thus men go wrong with an ingenious skill, Bend the straight rule to their own crooked will. COWPER. That same night, Arthur Seaham called on Eugene Trevor at the hotel, in which he had easily ascertained the latter to be established. He did not entertain much hope of finding him at home at that hour, but purposed proceeding there to demand an interview the following day. He was more fortunate than he expected. He was told that Mr. Trevor was in the house, and it was not a little in Eugene's favour (in the brother's eyes) that he found him seated in a private room in the hotel, plunged in melancholy meditation, over the remains of a solitary dinner.