But to return. Just as our wanderers had arrived at the farther end of the park, Lady Westborough and her daughter passed them. Clarence, excusing himself to his friend, hastened towards them, and was soon occupied in saying the prettiest things in the world to the prettiest person, at least in his eyes; while Sir Christopher, having done as much mischief as a good heart well can do in a walk of an hour, returned home to write a long letter to his mother, against “learning and all such nonsense, which only served to blunt the affections and harden the heart.” “Admirable young man!” cried the mother, with tears in her eyes. “A good heart is better than all the heads in the world.” Amen! CHAPTER XXXIV. “Make way, Sir Geoffrey Peveril, or you will compel me to do that I may be sorry for!” “You shall make no way here but at your peril,” said Sir Geoffrey; “this is my ground.”--Peveril of the Peak. One night on returning home from a party at Lady Westborough’s in Hanover Square, Clarence observed a man before him walking with an uneven and agitated step. His right hand was clenched, and he frequently raised it as with a sudden impulse, and struck fiercely as if at some imagined enemy. The stranger slackened his pace. Clarence passed him, and, turning round to satisfy the idle curiosity which the man’s eccentric gestures had provoked, his eye met a dark, lowering, iron countenance, which, despite the lapse of four years, he recognized on the moment: it was Wolfe, the republican. Clarence moved, involuntarily, with a quicker step; but in a few minutes, Wolfe, who was vehemently talking to himself, once more passed him; the direction he took was also Clarence’s way homeward, and he therefore followed the republican, though at some slight distance, and on the opposite side of the way. A gentleman on foot, apparently returning from a party, met Wolfe, and, with an air half haughty, half unconscious, took the wall; though, according to old-fashioned rules of street courtesy, he was on the wrong side for asserting the claim. The stern republican started, drew himself up to his full height, and sturdily and doggedly placed himself directly in the way of the unjust claimant. Clarence was now nearly opposite to the two, and saw all that was going on. With a motion a little rude and very contemptuous, the passenger attempted to put Wolfe aside, and win his path. Little did he know of the unyielding nature he had to do with; the next instant the republican, with a strong hand, forced him from the pavement into the very kennel, and silently and coldly continued his way. The wrath of the discomfited passenger was vehemently kindled. “Insolent dog!” cried he, in a loud and arrogant tone, “your baseness is your protection.” Wolfe turned rapidly, and made but two strides before he was once more by the side of his defeated opponent. “What did you say?” he asked, in his low, deep, hoarse voice.