was seen on the river very late last night with a stranger. He went
up to the school with her, remained about a quarter of an hour, and then
rowed up the river again. I am afraid it is not the first time she has
been seen with him.'

'But, Mr. Prendergast, she was here till at least ten! She fainted away
just as she was to have sung, and we carried her out into the cloister.
When she recovered she went away to the housekeeper's room--' (a bold
assertion, built on Owen's partially heard reply to Phoebe). 'I'll ask
the maids.'

'It is of no use, Cilla; she allows it herself.'

'And pray,' cried Lucilla, rallying her sauciness, 'how do you propose
ever to have banns to publish, if young men and maidens are never to meet
by water nor by land?'

'Then you do know something?'

'No; only that such matters are not commonly blazoned in the
commencement.'

'I don't wish her to blazon it, but if she would only act openly by me,'
said the distressed curate. 'I wish nothing more than that she was safe
married; and then if you ladies appoint another beauty, I'll give up the
place, and live at --- college.'

'We'll advertise for the female Chimpanzee, and depend upon it she will
marry at the end of six weeks. So you have attacked her in person. What
did she say?'

'Nothing that she could help. She stood with those great eyes cast down,
looking like a statue, and sometimes vouchsafing "yes, sir," or "no,
sir." It was "no, sir," when I asked if her mother knew. I am afraid it
must be something very unsatisfactory, Cilla; but she might say more to
you if you were not going away.'

'Oh! Mr. Prendergast, why did you not come sooner?'

'I did come an hour ago, but you were not come down.'

'I'll walk on at once; the carriage can pick me up. I'll fetch my hat.
Poor Edna! I'll soon make her satisfy your mind. Has any one surmised
who it can be?'

'The notion is that it is one of your musicians--very dangerous, I am
afraid; and I say, Cilla, did you ever do such a thing--you couldn't, I
suppose--as lend her Shelley's poems?'

'I? No; certainly not.'

'There was a copy lying on the table in her little parlour, as if she had
been writing something out from it. It is very odd, but it was in that
peculiar olive-green morocco that some of the books in your father's
library were bound in.'

'Not mine, certainly,' said Lucilla. 'Good Honor Charlecote would have
run crazy if she thought I had touched a Shelley; a ve