"That is a fact which should never be lost sight of," said Hilda, very gravely--"nor is it ever lost sight of; one must be prepared to encounter such a thing as that." "But how?" "Oh, there are various ways," said Hilda. "He can be avoided, shunned, fled from," said Gualtier, "but how can he be encountered?" "If he does come," said Hilda, "he will be neither avoided nor shunned. He will be most assuredly encountered--and that, too, _face to face_!" Gualtier looked at her in fresh perplexity. Not yet had he fathomed the full depth of Hilda's deep design. CHAPTER XXXIV. REMODELING THE HOUSEHOLD. Two or three days afterward, Hilda, attended by Gualtier, drove up to the inn of the little village near Chetwynde Castle. Gualtier stopped here, and Hilda drove on to the Castle itself. Her luggage was with her, but it was small, consisting of only a small trunk, which looked as though it were her intention to make but a short stay. On her arrival the servants all greeted her respectfully, and asked eagerly after Lady Chetwynde. Her ladyship, Hilda informed them, was still too unwell to travel, but was much better than when she left. She had sent her to make certain arrangements for the reception of Lord Chetwynde, who was expected from India at no very distant date. She did not as yet know the time of his probable arrival; but when she had learned it she herself would come to Chetwynde Castle to receive him; but until that time she would stay away. The place where she was staying just at present was particularly healthy. It was a small village on the coast of Brittany, and Lady Chetwynde was anxious to defer her return to the latest possible moment. Such was the information which Hilda condescended to give to the servants, who received the news with unfeigned delight, for they all dearly loved that gentle girl, whose presence at Chetwynde had formerly brightened the whole house, and with whose deep grief over her last bereavement they had all most sincerely sympathized.