Mr. Ashford took Lottie home that evening, walking with her to her own door. There was not much said; for, notwithstanding the armour of personal hope and happiness which she had put on, the shock of this personal encounter with her father and the woman who was to be her father’s wife made the girl tremble with secret excitement, in spite of herself. The woman: it was this, the sight and almost touch of this new, unknown, uncomprehended being brushing past her in the darkness which overwhelmed Lottie. That first contact made the girl sick and faint. She could not talk to Mr. Ashford any more--her voice seemed to die out of her throat, where her heart was fluttering. She could not think even what she had been saying. It was all confused, driven aside into a corner, by that sudden apparition. Mr. Ashford, on his side, said little more than Lottie. It seemed to him that he had a sudden insight into all that was happening. He had heard, though without paying much attention, the common gossip about Captain Despard, who was not considered by anybody within the Precincts as a creditable inmate; but this curious little scene, of which he had been a witness, had placed him at once in the midst of the little drama. He seemed to himself to have shared in the shock Lottie had received. He walked softly by her side, saying little, full of compassion, but too sympathetic even to express his sympathy. He would not hurt her by seeming to be sorry for her. When they parted he held her hand for a moment with a kind, serious grasp, as if he had been her father, and said: “You will send him to me to-morrow, Miss Despard? I shall expect him to-morrow.” “Oh--Law!” she said, with a little start and recovery. Poor Law had gone out of her mind. “Poor child!” he said, as he turned towards his house; but before he had crossed the road he was met by Captain Temple coming the other way. “Was that Miss Despard?” asked the old man. “Is it she you were saying good-night to? My wife told me she had gone towards the Slopes, and I was on my way to bring her home.” “I met her there, and I have just brought her home,” said the Minor Canon. He could scarcely make out in the dark who his questioner was. “That is all right--that is all right,” said the old Chevalier. “She is left too much alone, and she should have some one to take care of her. I feel much obliged to you, Mr. Ashford, for I take a great interest in the young lady.” “It is--Captain Temple?” said Mr. Ashford, peering at the old man with contracted, short-sighted eyes. “I beg your pardon. Yes, Miss Despard is quite safe; she has been talking to me about her brother. What kind of boy is he? I only know he is a big fellow, and not very fond of his work.”