I cannot assert that she appeared to be remarkable either for good looks or cleverness; but she was fresh and young—about twenty, I judged her—modest in manner, and evidently desirous to please; full of innocent questions concerning Cambridge and Cambridge ways, concerning our famous buildings, their names and histories, which I found it pleasant enough to answer. In the drawing-room, when we rejoined the ladies after dinner, she went to the piano, at her uncle’s request, and sang some Scotch songs and some sentimental ballads then much in vogue, with no great art, I admit, but with pleasing simplicity and a tuneful voice. The evening left me under impressions at once agreeable and not a little sad. For, from the time I returned to Cambridge, I had hardly spoken to a woman. Doing so now, memories of Mere Ban and of Nellie crowded upon me thick and fast; and, throwing me back into that fantastic inner life of unsatisfied and consuming love, threw me also into a necessity for renewed self-abnegation and self-torment. At all costs I must find means to set the dear boy free of Fédore’s influence—set him free—and for what? I stayed after the other guests had left and asked for a little private talk with the Master; recounted the substance of my conversation with Halidane last night, and stated my own convictions and the ground of them. He had heard of Marsigli’s disappearance, but had not mentioned it to me simply because he supposed I had seen it in the newspapers. I was much vexed at the strange oversight. Had I but learned it at the time, how much might have been saved! How much truly—more a thousand times than I then imagined.—Yet how know I that? No—I will believe all the events of our lives are well ordered, so long as they do not arise from our wilful ill-doings; and will never regret, as the result of blind chance, that which is in truth the education given each one of us, for our soul’s good, by an all-merciful and all-wise Father in Heaven. CHAPTER XXV. I told the Master enough for him to agree it would be well I should go to town; and to town two days later I went. I had learned, by cautious questioning of Mr. Halidane, that the family was in London, as was Hartover. So I made my way to the great house in Grosvenor Square, which was not altogether unknown to me. I had stayed there once, for a few days, with the dear boy, during the time of my tutorship; and to my delectation had made acquaintance with its many treasures in the matter of pictures, furniture, and _objets d’art_. Oh! the priceless possessions of these people, and the little care they had for them! The men servants, who received me, were unknown to me, supercilious in manner and only just not insolent. I asked for my young lord. He was on guard at St. James’s. They supposed I should hear of him there. Where he lived, when not staying here, they did not know.—Odd, I thought; but the ways of great folks were odd sometimes!