She felt that her mood was not for the wider scene; and she turned back into the narrower paths, the green soft shades of which suited better with the humour of the moment. She had gone on for about a quarter of a mile, still buried in thought, when she heard a step and looked up. The path wound a good deal in its course, so that, seeing no one upon it, and being within ten or twelve yards of the lane, she fancied that the footfall must have been upon the road. The next instant, however, just at the turn, within a few feet of her, she beheld a stranger. Maria was not by nature cowardly, nor what is vulgarly called nervous; she had no bad habit of screaming at trifles or jumping at the banging of a door; but she certainly did start at this sudden apparition, and for a moment hesitated whether she should go on or turn back. An instant's consideration, however, was sufficient to make her resolve to follow the former course. "It is ridiculous to be frightened," she thought, remembering that there were a stile and one or two gates into the lane: "he has probably come to see the steward or some of the people at the house." And after a just perceptible pause she walked on, merely glancing her eye over the stranger's form as she did so. That glance showed her nothing to be frightened at; for there is certainly something in air and mien, and general appearance, which, although devils will take angels' forms at times, has a powerful effect upon that very unreasonable thing, human reason. Briefly as her eyes were turned towards the person before her, they had no time to scan him very accurately; but still she saw at once three very important facts: that he was very well dressed, that he had the bearing and look of a gentleman, and that he was a remarkably handsome man, though very dark. In the mean time, what was the stranger about? He too had suddenly paused, and he looked for a moment irresolute. The next instant, however, he advanced straight towards the beautiful girl before him, and, raising his hat with a graceful inclination of the head, he said-- "I fear I am trespassing. May I ask if these are the grounds of the Earl of Milford?" All Maria's little tremor was at an end, and she looked up frankly, replying-- "No; these are mine. Harley Lodge is on the other side of the road; but----" And she stopped and hesitated, not knowing whether to tell the stranger abruptly of Lord Milford's death or not. "You were going to add something," said the stranger, after having waited a moment for the conclusion of the sentence. "I was merely about to ask who it is you wish to see," replied Maria; "for I fear you will find nobody there but servants----" And she blushed a little as she spoke. "It is-strange!" said the gentleman: "a carrier I met just now told me that on this side was Harley Lodge, and that the opposite property belonged to Miss Monkton."