“Yes, madam,” said Robert.  “I’ll answer plainly.  He can’t fight a man like me.  I know it.  I bear him no ill-will.  I believe he’s innocent enough in this matter, as far as acts go.”

“That makes your behaviour to him worse!”

Robert looked up into her eyes.

“You are a lady.  You won’t be shocked at what I tell you.”

“Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Lovell, hastily:  “I have learnt—­I am aware of the tale.  Some one has been injured or, you think so.  I don’t accuse you of madness, but, good heavens! what means have you been pursuing!  Indeed, sir, let your feelings be as deeply engaged as possible, you have gone altogether the wrong way to work.”

“Not if I have got your help by it, madam.”

“Gallantly spoken.”

She smiled with a simple grace.  The next moment she consulted her watch.

“Time has gone faster than I anticipated.  I must leave you.  Let this be our stipulation”

She lowered her voice.

“You shall have the address you require.  I will undertake to see her myself, when next I am in London.  It will be soon.  In return, sir, favour me with your word of honour not to molest this gentleman any further.  Will you do that?  You may trust me.”

“I do, madam, with all my soul!” said Robert.

“That’s sufficient.  I ask no more.  Good morning.”

Her parting bow remained with him like a vision.  Her voice was like the tinkling of harp-strings about his ears.  The colour of her riding-habit this day, harmonious with the snow-faced earth, as well as the gentle mission she had taken upon herself, strengthened his vivid fancy in blessing her as something quite divine.

He thought for the first time in his life bitterly of the great fortune which fell to gentlemen in meeting and holding equal converse with so adorable a creature; and he thought of Rhoda as being harshly earthly; repulsive in her coldness as that black belt of water contrasted against the snow on the shores.

He walked some paces in the track of Mrs. Lovell’s horse, till his doing so seemed too presumptuous, though to turn the other way and retrace his steps was downright hateful:  and he stood apparently in profound contemplation of a ship of war and the trees of the forest behind the masts.  Either the fatigue of standing, or emotion, caused his head to throb, so that he heard nothing, not even men’s laughter; but looking up suddenly, he beheld, as in a picture, Mrs. Lovell with some gentlemen walking their horses toward him.  The lady gazed softly over his head, letting her eyes drop a quiet recognition in passing; one or two of the younger gentlemen stared mockingly.

Edward Blancove was by Mrs. Lovell’s side.  His eyes fixed upon Robert with steady scrutiny, and Robert gave him a similar inspection, though not knowing why.  It was like a child’s open look, and he was feeling childish, as if his brain had ceased to act.  One of the older gentlemen, with a military aspect, squared his shoulders, and touching an end of his moustache, said, half challengingly,—­