It would seem, then, that between the botheration of Ireland and the interests of Egypt the affairs of Slough-cum-Sloggit--monetary, municipal, and commercial--were as likely to be forgotten and ignored as if that quiet borough had actually been an integral part of Scotland--a state of matters not to be tolerated. So Sir Paget was in his place at Westminster, jerking his head and puffing out his chest more than ever, and Eveline was freed for a time from his presence, and the would-be lover-like regard of his suspicious and keenly-critical old eyes. And she knew not that almost daily, the moment that he was free from duty or parade was over, Evan, drawn by an irrepressible craving and desire to be near her--to see the roof under which she dwelt, the windows through which she might be looking, the trees under which she might be walking, was always hovering in the vicinity of Maviswood; while, by a strange fatality, she, filled by a similar desire, might be riding with her father, or driving with her mother, through stately George Street, along the magnificent terrace of Princes Street, and other great thoroughfares, looking eagerly, but in vain, for a chance glimpse of him, and perhaps a bow--a mere bow, and nothing more. Circumstanced as they were, what more could she look for? Twice only, and at long intervals, did she see Evan, and on each occasion how wildly did her loving heart beat as she detected his well-known figure; but he saw not her, as she rode slowly on by her father's side, who, if he saw Evan on the first occasion, steadily ignored the fact, and stared up at the Castle ramparts, where the sentinels of the Black Watch trod slowly to and fro. Certainly Evan did not see her. He was on the garden side of Princes Street the wooded walk which somewhat resembles a continental boulevard--in close conversation with a young lady, who seemed to listen to all he was saying with great _empressement_. The second time she saw him was after an interval of some days, in the same place, at the same hour, and with the same fair companion, to whom her father--thinking, no doubt, to utilise the circumstance--drew her attention somewhat pointedly. 'Cameron _again_!' said he; 'our friend seems to find other attractions in the gardens than trees or spring flowers.' Eveline's heart beat painfully, and the second episode gave her occasion for much and rather harassing thought. Her father, by this remark, showed that he had observed Evan before; but who was the latter's companion? Eveline blushed violently up to where the brim of her smart riding-hat pressed her bright brown hair upon her brow, and down to where a stiff and snow-white linen collar encircled her slender white neck; then she grew very pale with constrained emotion, which, fortunately, her father did not detect.