Perhaps, after all, Lord Clanfield was right, and the meeting, unavoidable as it had been, might have done the invalid more harm than good. In a state of fresh suspense, she asked herself whether she would not do better to go back again, to make inquiries about him, to make one more attempt to soften the viscount’s heart towards her. But she knew, even while she thus debated with herself, that she would find no melting in the obstinate and autocratic old gentleman, whose prejudices as well as principles she had offended, and whose pride she had wounded by her counter-attacks. No. She must refrain at all hazards from irritating him further, and she could trust him to fulfil his promise to be kind to Gerard if he were allowed to work in his own way. In the meantime, how would he satisfy his nephew’s demands to know more about her? Would Lord Clanfield tell him all he knew, and worse, all he suspected about her? Would he tell of the splendid house where she was surrounded by luxury, visited by troops of acquaintances, all belonging to a set more noted for its enjoyment of life than for its austerity? Surely, surely he would never do such a cruel thing as to try to oust her from his nephew’s heart by means which would inevitably do more harm to Gerard than to her! And then in the midst of her trouble and distress there came into Audrey’s heart a comforting thought: Gerard would never believe her other than true to him in word and deed without such overwhelming proof to the contrary as even malignity could not bring! Struggling to regain her self-command, and drying the tears which would flow, she recovered enough composure to resume her walk towards the park gates. But as she went, she cast many a look behind, perhaps with the secret hope that she might be called back, that she might even see Gerard himself in pursuit of her. And on one of these occasions she caught sight, not indeed of any member of the viscount’s household, but of a figure which seemed familiar. This was her first impression when she perceived, a long way behind her, a man going in the same direction as herself. The second impression was less pleasant: the man stopped short when she turned, and Audrey suddenly wondered whether he was following her. On this assumption she waited, looking at him. He seemed disconcerted by her action, and, after turning away so that she could not see his face, he walked until he reached the shelter of an intervening clump of ornamental firs, after which she saw no more of him for the time. At first she thought she would go back and try to find out who the man was. But on second thoughts she decided that, if he was really dogging her footsteps, her best plan would be to go on to the station without looking back, trusting to chance for some convenient season for identifying him. This was a sensible decision, and, as she had supposed, she found the desired opportunity before reaching the little country railway station.