"Yes, that is the most singular part of the story. After that Eton _fracas_ they saw nothing of each other for years and years. They went to different universities, and Mr. Lobyer, as you know, finished his education on the Continent. When the Pevenshall estate was bought, Mr. Lobyer senior discovered that the country-seat of his son's old enemy was within ten miles of the place. The country people received Mr. Lobyer the elder with open arms; but he didn't care for society, and as he went out very little, he never happened to meet Sir Nugent. And as my husband was very seldom here, _he_ never happened to see Sir Nugent, and I suppose the old Guelph and Ghibelline feeling still existed in a modified degree, and might have gone on existing from generation to generation, if it had not come to an end like a romance. When we were travelling in Switzerland in the autumn, we went on one mountain expedition to see the sun rise from some particularly romantic and unapproachable peak, with rather a large party, almost all of whom were strangers to us. By some accident I and my guide were separated from Mr. Lobyer and his guide; and as the guide could only speak some vile jargon of his own, and couldn't understand any language I tried him with, I found myself wandering farther away from my own party, on the track of a party of deserters who had started off at a tangent to see some other prospect, and to whom the guide imagined I belonged. "I was very much annoyed at not being able to make myself understood, for I was very tired of the snow, and the slipperiness, and the grand scenery, and was unromantically anxious to get back to the hotel, which I don't think I ever should have done if one of the deserters had not espied me following wearily in their track, and benevolently come to my assistance. He was an Englishman, but he could speak the guide's jargon, and he told the stupid creature what I wanted. Not content with this, he insisted on escorting me himself to meet my own party, and would not leave me till he had placed me in Mr. Lobyer's care. I suppose when poor shipwrecked creatures are picked up by a passing vessel, they are very likely to think that vessel the queen of ships; and I know that I thought my deliverer a most agreeable person. Of course Mr. Lobyer asked to whom he was indebted, and so on, and the two gentlemen exchanged cards, whereupon it appeared that my deliverer was no other than Sir Nugent Evershed. After this we met in the public rooms of the hotel. Sir Nugent was delightful, did not ignore the Eton business, but talked of it as a boyish folly, and said the old fogies who made a fuss about it had no right to have interfered in the matter, and made himself altogether so agreeable that it would have been quite impossible for Mr. Lobyer or any one else to reject the olive-branch so gracefully offered. Beyond this, we found our pre-arranged routes were the same,--it was quite a romantic coincidence, Sir Nugent declared.