“Yes, dear Mrs. Rodwell, I think I had better do so. Lady Cunningham will not be late to-night, and you know how particular she is about my being home before her. Please let me go.” “Well, dear, it must not be so long again before we see you. We must try and get up a few parties this winter, as it will be Amy’s last in the home circle. And mind, Lizzie, you are to be one of her bridesmaids; she insists upon it.” “Ah! She is very kind, as you all are, but we will talk of that when the time comes. Good-night, dear Mrs. Rodwell. Kiss the girls for me. I won’t go into the drawing-room, such a figure as I am.” But Mrs. Rodwell accompanied me down the stairs, conversing as she went. “I am sorry the doctor is from home, my dear; he would have seen you round to Northampton Lodge; but he is never to be depended on from one hour to another, you know.” “Oh, it is of no consequence, Mrs. Rodwell; I am used to going alone.” “But I don’t half like your doing it, Lizzie: the night is so very dark, and--” “Allow me to have the pleasure of accompanying Miss Lacy, Mrs. Rodwell,” said the voice of Bruce Armytage. We had reached the drawing-room floor by that time, and he stood on the threshold of the open door. “No, no!” I exclaimed, as I shrank backward; “I do not desire it--I would rather go alone;” and with a hasty kiss on Mrs. Rodwell’s cheek, I ran down the remaining stairs and out at the hall door. The wind was blowing fresh and cold as I turned into the open air, and the night was very dark, but I thought of nothing but his offer to accompany me, and I hurried onward. Did he wish to add insult to injury? But I had not gone far when I heard the sound of footsteps running after me; and I had hardly realised it was indeed himself before he was by my side, apologising for his presence by the excuse that Mrs. Rodwell had desired him to overtake me and see me home. Would I forgive what might otherwise seem an intrusion to me? I was too indignant to vouchsafe him any answer. We walked on in silence side by side for several minutes, I with my head bent down and holding my thick cloak around me, and he vainly endeavouring to look me in the face. At last, as though making a great effort, he cleared his throat, and said, “I suppose, after the manner in which you spoke to me at the piano this evening, my pride ought to forbid my attempting any further explanation with you, but in this case I have one feeling more powerful than pride, Miss Lacy, and I must ask you what you meant by saying that all that this world could give of solace was yours?” “I meant what I said,” I answered abruptly, “or rather, that I require no pity from you or any other stranger. Our paths in life are widely enough divided now: let each walk in his own track, without interfering with the other.” “That is easier said than done, perhaps,” he replied; “it is difficult in this world for people to forget what they have been.” “It does not appear so to me.”