This sublime idea expanding within her mind, Miss Blake walked hurriedly back to Foxwood--for Mrs. Cleeve was to depart at midday. In passing the Maze, the interest as to what she had heard induced her to go up to the gate again, and peer in. Turning away after a good long look, she nearly ran against a rather tall gentleman, who was slowly sauntering amid the trees outside the gate. A gentleman in green spectacles, with a somewhat handsome face and black whiskers--the same face and whiskers, Miss Blake thought, that had watched her from the opposite window. He wore grey clothes, had one black glove on and his arm in a sling. Mr. Smith took off his hat and apologised. Miss Blake apologised. Between them they fell into conversation. She found him a very talkative, pleasant man. "Curious place, the Maze?" he echoed in answer to a remark of Miss Blake's. "Well, yes, I suppose it may be called so, as mazes are not very common." "I have been told a young lady lives in it alone." "I believe she does. In fact, I know it, for I have seen her, and spoken with her." "Oh, have you!" cried Miss Blake, more curious than ever. "When I went to receive the premium for Sir Karl Andinnian--due on taking the house," quietly explained Mr. Smith. "And who is she?" "She is a Mrs. Grey." "Oh--a married woman." "Certainly. A single lady, young as she is, would scarcely be living entirely alone." "But where is her husband?" "Travelling, I believe. I understood her to say so." "She is quite young then?" "Quite." "Is she good-looking?" continued Miss Blake. "I have rarely seen anyone so pretty." "Indeed! What a strange thing that she should be hiding herself in this retired place!" "Do you think so? It seems to me to be just the spot a young lady might select, if obliged to live apart for a time from her husband." "Of course, there's something in that," conceded Miss Blake. "Does she visit at all in the neighbourhood?" "I think not. I am sure not. If she did I should see her go in and out. She takes a walk occasionally, and sometimes goes to church on Sundays. But she mostly keeps in her shell, guarded by her two old domestics." In talking, they had crossed the road, and now halted again at the little gate of Clematis Cottage. Miss Blake asked if he knew anything about the ruins she had noticed further up: and Mr. Smith (who had introduced himself to her by name in a light, gentlemanly manner) said he did not, but he had a book of the locality indoors which he would refer to, if she would do him the honour of stepping into his little drawing-room.