On this evening, Tremenhere, at ten o'clock, was to bring her a letter for Minnie, which she faithfully promised and purposed giving to her; all relating to lady Dora, of course, understood. At a quarter to ten, Miles stole through the shrubbery gate, of which she had given him a key. It was a lovely starlight night in June--no moon to betray his wandering--just light enough to lead him onward in safety. He closed the gate, and stood for a moment looking around--then a lover's thought--a perfect lover's one, arose in his mind, to go and look at Minnie's window. We always like to know the aspect of such things, in such cases. He had learned from Minnie herself, which were her's. In a few moments he stood before them, on the soft turf, looking upwards. There was a light within, but the window was open--'twas a lattice; for Gatestone was not a modern built structure, but a good old family seat, like so many we meet with in the north of England, especially in Yorkshire. It was the sort of lattice window from which one could have fancied a dame in the olden time, waving a snowy scarf to a departing warrior! Before this comfortable-looking, homely window, hung a curtain. This side of the house was facing the south, and a wide-spreading vine mingled with the ivy on the wall, creeping around it. There are many cruel temptations in life, thrown in our path. Now Tremenhere had merely, lover-like, stolen round to look upon his "ladye's" window; but whilst gazing upwards at it, something against the wall attracted his attention. He drew nearer, cautiously. This temptation was a ladder, which John Gardener had left, after nailing the vines. In an instant, a thought--a desire, crept into Miles's heart; this was naturally, to make use of this ladder! It was an impulse--an irresistible one. Cautiously he moved it nearer Minnie's window, and crept half-way upwards. A voice struck on his ear!--then another!--the first was Juvenal's, the last Minnie's. This latter seemed scarcely able to articulate distinctly from emotion. Some would have mounted higher, and listened. Miles's conscience forbade this. Though tricking's all fair in love, he felt it would not be strictly honourable; so down he crept again. The man's voice rose--the woman's seemed scarcely a breath--then a door closed violently, and all was for a moment still within that chamber, or rather, the little music-room; for this it was. Then the voice rose higher, and the girl was sobbing in her solitude and affliction. Juvenal closed the door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket, sagely shaking his head as he did so. "She shall never quit that room till she consents to marry Burton!" he soliloquized, as he dropped step by step ploddingly down stairs, nodding as he did so. "Burton was quite right," he continued; "I have been too lenient--I'll be master now--it is just a little obstinacy; of course, I must know better than she can what's for her ultimate benefit.