a place open to all eyes, might be dangerous; notwithstanding, what could a man do? He was bound to be civil. He could not run away from a lady when he met her, simply because he admired her--a reason, on the contrary, to keep him by her side. So they took a stroll together, this way and that way, from one end to the other: it was not a very long way. He told her that he was going to the Signor’s, and she accepted the explanation very demurely, notwithstanding the fact that the Signor lived on the lower side of the Deanery and this was on the upper side; and she told him that she had only just come out, having missed Captain Temple, who would appear presently:--“He is my usual companion--he is very old, the oldest of all the Chevaliers--and he is very, very kind to me.” Each accepted what the other thus said with a kind of solemnity; and they made two turns up and down, stopping now and then to look out upon the plain so broad and blue, with the soft autumn mists hanging on the horizon. “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” Rollo said; and they stood still and gazed, following the river in its silvery windings, and silent as if their minds were absorbed in these atmospheric influences and that dusky bridal of the earth and sky. When Captain Temple came up Rollo asked to be introduced to him, and was very civil. “Miss Despard has been waiting for you, and I have kept her company,” he said, so that the old Captain thanked him civilly, if a little stiffly; and then the two turned their backs upon each other, Rollo hastening down to the Cloisters to keep, as he said, his appointment, and Lottie turning away without so much as a parting glance, without shaking hands. Captain Temple, alarmed at first, took heart, and thought it was nothing but politeness when he saw how they parted. “You were quite right, my dear, quite right to wait, and I am much obliged to Mr. Ridsdale; I cannot think how I missed you.” Lottie did not make a direct reply, but compelled herself to talk, and very demurely, with much praise of the lovely night, went with him home. If Captain Temple had but known! And after this how many meetings there were, so happily accidental, so easily explainable, and yet requiring no such explanation! How well they began to know each other’s habits and each other’s likings; and how sweet were all the dewy misty paths in that fool’s paradise! or on the Slopes, if you prefer it; it does not matter much about a name. CHAPTER XXVII. A TERRIBLE INTERRUPTION.