She led the way into the garden,--we followed,--I, in a bewildered confusion of mind, with all my ideas respecting 'unsexed females' and repulsive blue-stockings upset by the unaffected behaviour and charming frankness of this 'celebrity' whose fame I envied, and whose personality I could not but admire. With all her intellectual gifts she was yet a lovable woman,--ah Mavis!--how lovable and dear I was destined in misery to know! Mavis, Mavis!--I whisper your sweet name in my solitude,--I see you in my dreams, and kneeling before you I call you Angel!--my angel at the gate of a lost Paradise, whose Sword of Genius turning every way, keeps me back from all approach to my forfeited Tree of Life! XX Scarcely had we stepped out on the lawn before an unpleasant incident occurred which might have ended dangerously. At his mistress's approach the big St Bernard dog rose from the sunny corner where he had been peacefully dozing, and prepared to greet her,--but as soon as he perceived us he stopped short with an ominous growl. Before Miss Clare could utter a warning word, he made a couple of huge bounds and sprang savagely at Lucio as though to tear him in pieces,--Lucio with admirable presence of mind caught him firmly by the throat and forced him backwards. Mavis turned deathly pale. "Let me hold him! He will obey me!" she cried, placing her little hand on the great dog's neck--"Down, Emperor! Down! How dare you! Down sir!" In a moment 'Emperor' dropped to the ground, and crouched abjectly at her feet, breathing heavily and trembling in every limb. She held him by the collar, and looked up at Lucio who was perfectly composed, though his eyes flashed dangerously. "I am so very sorry!" she murmured,--"I forgot,--you told me dogs do not like you. But what a singularly marked antipathy, is it not? I cannot understand it. Emperor is generally so good-natured,--I must apologize for his bad conduct--it is quite unusual. I hope he has not hurt you?" "Not at all!" returned Lucio affably but with a cold smile; "I hope I have not hurt _him_,--or distressed _you_!" She made no reply, but led the St Bernard away and was absent for a few minutes. While she was gone, Lucio's brow clouded, and his face grew very stern. "What do you think of her?" he asked me abruptly. "I hardly know what to think," I answered abstractedly--"She is very different to what I imagined. Her dogs are rather unpleasant company!" "They are honest animals!" he said morosely--"They are no doubt accustomed to candour in their mistress, and therefore object to personified lies." "Speak for yourself!" I said irritably--"They object to you, chiefly."