Mildred felt certain that she had met the young man before, though it seemed very improbable; but when they reached Mr. Crowe, he at once exclaimed, “Mr. Elsworth, I declare!” As Mr. Crowe had been Elsworth’s physiological teacher at the hospital, it was natural he should easily recognise him. The ladies, of course, had not the same intimate knowledge of him, though they knew of his mysterious disappearance from London. Mildred had not seen him since the day they had first met at a picnic which her father gave to his students at their country place on the Surrey Downs. They had been introduced some months previously; but on that occasion, while showing him the points of interest round the house and grounds, she had been favourably impressed by the earnestness of his interest in many things in which she delighted, and had often confessed to herself that if she should ever be weak enough to bother herself about man in the concrete, it would be somebody very much like Elsworth who would interest her. He knew all her favourite books, and her tastes in poetry coincided with his own. He was something of a Shelley and a Browning enthusiast; and held by Ruskin and Emerson, proving by his criticism of their works how deep a hold their ideas had taken of him. They had talked much that day of these things, and she recalled, as she now met him again after his long absence, the time when they had so long discussed themes congenial to them both. When he disappeared she had been painfully anxious to learn the causes which could have driven so promising a young man from his work and friends, and had speculated deeply as to what could have befallen him. She had never ceased to hope that one day he might turn up again. And here he was, and she had discovered him! Their eyes met, in an instant each recognised the other, and in that glance each told the other that the meeting was of moment to him and her. “Mr. Elsworth, I was sure!” she exclaimed. “And Miss Lee, of course!” said he. Aunt Janet had met, but did not recall the handsome man who had just done them so grateful a service. She was soon enlightened however. “Auntie dear, you remember Mr. Elsworth who used to visit us, and who alarmed us all so much by going away and leaving no address, making us all wonder what could have become of him?” Auntie remembered all in a moment; and as quickly reflected with a woman’s instinct that perhaps their kind friend would not thank them for thus unearthing him, which they had literally done by drawing him from the gipsies’ cave. “Mr. Elsworth will, I am sure, forgive us,” she said, without embarrassment, “for inadvertently trespassing upon his retirement, and he may rest assured we will not break the secret we have unwittingly discovered.”