The road lay close under the wall of the park beyond the iron gate. Patty had got so anxious, so terrified, so horribly convinced that her chances of meeting him were small, and that, except in an accidental way, she could not hope to lay hands on him again, that her stout heart almost failed her as she went on. It was a very warm day, and she was flushed and heated with her walk, as well as with the suspense and alarm of which her mind was full, so that she was aware she was not looking her best, when suddenly, without warning, she came full upon him round the corner, almost striking him with her outstretched parasol in the suddenness of the encounter. Gervase did not see her at all. He was coming on with his head bent, his under-lip hanging, his hands in his pockets, busy with his old game--six white ones all in a heap. What a jump for the right-hand man! and hallo, hallo! a little brown fellow slipping along on the other side, driven by somebody’s foot! He made a mental note of that before looking to see who the somebody was, which was of so much less importance. And then Patty’s little cry of surprise and “Oh! Mr. Gervase!” went through him like a shot at his ear. He gave a shout like the inarticulate delight of a dog, and flew towards her as if he had been Dash or Rover, roused by the ecstatic sound of their master’s voice. “Patty! Lord, to think of you being here! and me, that hasn’t had a peep of you for a whole week. Patty! Oh, come now, I can’t help it. I’m so happy, I could eat you up. Patty, Patty!” cried the poor fellow, patting her on the shoulder, looking into her face with his dull eyes suddenly inspired, “you’re sure it’s you!” “And a deal you care whether it’s me or not, Mr. Gervase,” cried Patty, tossing her head. But in that moment Patty had become herself again. Her anxiety was over, her bosom’s lord sat lightly on his throne. The fifty pounds in the little bag no longer felt like a blister. She was the mistress of the situation, and all her troubled thoughts flew before the wind as if they had never been. “A deal I care? Oh, I do care a deal, Patty, if you only knew! Never you do it again--to make me stay away like this. I’ve made a mull of it, as I knew I should, without you to back me up. Father turns his back on me. He won’t say a word. And even mother, that was always my stand-by, she says she can’t abide to see me there.” Again Gervase looked as if he would cry; but brightening up suddenly, “I don’t mind a bit as long as I can see you, and you’ll tell me what to do.” “Well,” said Patty, “I could perhaps tell you if I knew what you wanted to do. But I can’t stand still here, for I’ve come out for a walk, and if you wish to speak to me you must come along with me. I’m going as far as Carter’s Wells, and the afternoon’s wearing on.” “Oh!” said Gervase, discomfited, “you’re going as far as Carter’s Wells? I thought--I supposed--or I wanted to think, Patty--as you were coming to look for me!”