"You are sure of it?" she inquired. "You are sure that he is here,-- actually here? May you not have made, some mistake?" "Oh, no; I am sure, quite sure," repeated Eugenia, earnestly. "He is certainly here, staying at Nunswell. For all I know, in this very house." Mrs Dalrymple sat silent again for a little, apparently thinking it over. "I don't quite understand it," she said at length; "what he is doing here just now, I mean. I thought he was at Winsley. But all the same,--though of course it is most unfortunate, most peculiarly unfortunate,--the very thing of all others I should most have wished to avoid for you,--all the same, my dear child, I confess I hardly see that it would be right or wise for us to allow it to interfere with our plans. Of course, if you go home, we shall go too. That does not matter; it would make very little difference to us. But don't you think, Eugenia, it would be just a little undignified,--not to say cowardly,--to seem afraid of him,--to run away whenever he appears? I should like him rather to see, or to think, that he is no more to you than he deserves to be. Don't be offended with me. I have felt for you and with you more than I can express all through." She waited rather anxiously for Eugenia's answer. It was slow of coming. Mrs Dalrymple began to fear she had gone too far; she could not understand the look of embarrassment on Eugenia's face. "Yes," she said, at last; "you are quite right. It would have been cowardly to have run away had it been as you think, though I dare say I should have wished to do so all the same. I am a coward, I suppose; at least, I entirely distrust my own strength. And I have reason enough to do so," she added, in a lower tone, hardly intended for her companion's ears. "But it isn't quite as you think. It is not only on my own account I want to go away. It is not only that I have _seen_ him-- Captain Chancellor, I mean. I have spoken to him. He saw me this morning in the gardens, and came back to speak to me; and--and--if I stay here he will insist on seeing me, and it may be very painful for us all." "I _don't_ understand," exclaimed Mrs Dalrymple. "What can he want to see you for? What can he have to say to you,--he, engaged to Roma Eyrecourt?" "I can't tell you. I am so afraid of making you angry, for of course she is your cousin," said Eugenia, in great distress. "But still I thought it best to be quite open with you. He forgot himself,--for the time only, I dare say," she continued, with an irrepressible sigh and a sudden sense of bitter humility. "He saw that I had been ill, and I think he was dreadfully sorry for me, and I was alone, and somehow I suppose I was frightfully undignified, and unmaidenly even,"--the harsh word, though self-inflicted, bringing a painful blush with it. "I dare say it was all my fault, but any way he offered to give up everything for my sake, to break all ties and obstacles."