She bowed to him, with the smile which lent such a charm to her fair face. For she was fair, Myles decided, as he saw that look of recognition; and he was right. She was one of those women who are not anything, neither ugly nor beautiful, until one knows them, and then they are lovely for ever. With the ‘Good evening’ and the smile they exchanged, he felt at rest, and could turn to his book again, and read, and understand. For not yet did he know that he had met his fate--good or evil as the case might be; there was a sweet, momentary pause before there came that fever of unrest which love must be to such men as he. Miss Blisset made her notes, and studied her music with diligence, until nine o’clock came chiming from the steeple above their heads, and there rang out after the chimes the music of the tune ‘Life let us cherish!’ Adrienne put her books together, and rose. ‘Mr. Heywood, I told my uncle about what happened last night, and he told me to ask you to come and see him this evening. Will you?’ ‘I shall be very glad to do so,’ said Myles, looking up, pleased and somewhat surprised. He had thought Miss Blisset’s gratitude to him natural, under the circumstances, and had quite supposed that she would treat him with friendliness afterwards; but he had smiled at the idea of the uncle of whom she spoke troubling himself about him. If he let the girl take that disagreeable walk to the town-hall every evening, he was not likely to care much whether she were annoyed or not, so that his work was done. That was the conclusion Myles had come to; and it was a conclusion quite in harmony with his character. They left the hall together: it was Saturday night, and the streets were thronged with a rough-spoken, roughly mannered Lancashire crowd, pushing and talking, and, too many of them, reeling about, with the absence of ceremony peculiar to them. They soon left the thoroughfare, and found themselves first in the narrow cross-lane, and then in Blake Street. ‘Only one more evening,’ said Adrienne, ‘and then my work will be done; and I shall not need to come any more.’ ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Myles, abruptly. ‘You like reading,’ said Adrienne. ‘Have you read much?’ ‘I don’t think I have,’ he owned frankly. ‘The Thanshope library is not a bad one in its way,’ she remarked. ‘Rather behind the time though, in the matter of science and philosophy.’ ‘Well, you see, it’s like the gentlemen who have the managing of it, I suppose,’ said Myles, apologetically. ‘They are a little behind the time, too.’ ‘Fortunately they have been allowed to exercise no control over my department, the music, since it was all bequeathed by a good and enlightened man to the town; and all those worthy committee people had to do, was to accept it gratefully, and find a room to put it in. And then, too, I don’t think they would know anything about the orthodox and heterodox in such matters.’ ‘Is there orthodox and heterodox in music?’ asked Myles.