Wondering in which direction he should next turn, he suddenly found
himself repeating, with unaccountable transition of thought, the
words "South Bank, Regent's Park." In all likelihood, he said to
himself presently, they were suggested by some inscription on a
passing omnibus, noted unconsciously. The address was that he had
read in Miss Enderby's note-book. Why not ramble in that direction
as well as another, and amuse himself by guessing which house it was
that the governess lived in? He had not seen her since the uproar
which had terminated his connection with the young Tootles. Was it
true that she had then already decided to give up her position? If
not, his outbreak of temper had doubtless resulted unpleasantly for
her, seeing that Mrs. Tootle would almost certainly dismiss her out
of mere spite. Several times during the last two days he had thought
of conveying to her a note by some means, to express in some way or
other this fear, and the regret it caused him; the real motive, he
knew well enough, would be a hope of receiving a reply from her. But
now she had perhaps left the school, and he did not know her exact
address. He made his way across the Park in the direction of St.
John's Wood, and had soon reached South Bank.

He had walked once the length of the road, and was looking at the
nearest houses before he turned, when a lady came round the corner
and paused to avoid him, as he stood in the middle of the pavement.
It was Miss Enderby herself. Her embarrassment was apparently not as
great as his own. She smiled with friendliness; seemed indeed in a
happier frame of mind than any in which Waymark had as yet seen her.
But she did not offer her hand, and the other, having raised his
hat, was almost on the point of passing on, when he overcame his
diffidence and spoke.