ppose my aunt's grand manner daunted him.

[Note.--I really must break in here. Her aunt's "grand manner" makes me
sick. It is nothing (between ourselves) but a hook-nose and a stiff pair
of stays. What daunted Nugent Dubourg, when he first found himself in the
old lady's presence, was the fear of discovery. He would no doubt have
learnt from his brother that Oscar and Miss Batchford had never met. You
will see, if you look back, that it was, in the nature of things,
impossible they should have met. But is it equally clear that Nugent
could find out beforehand that Miss Batchford had been left in ignorance
of what had happened at Dimchurch? He could do nothing of the sort--he
could feel no assurance of his security from exposure, until he had tried
the ground in his own proper person first. The risk here was certainly
serious enough to make even Nugent Dubourg feel uneasy. And Lucilla talks
of her aunt's "grand manner!" Poor innocent! I leave her to go on.--P.]

As soon as my aunt left us together, the first words I said to Oscar,
referred (of course) to his letter about Madame Pratolungo.

He made a little sign of entreaty, and looked distressed.

"Why should we spoil the pleasure of our first meeting by talking of
her?" he said. "It is so inexpressibly painful to you and to me. Let us
return to it in a day or two. Not now, Lucilla--not now!"

His brother was the next subject in my mind. I was not at all sure how he
would take my speaking about it. I risked a question however, for all
that. He made another sign of entreaty, and looked distressed again.

"My brother and I understand each other, Lucilla. He will remain abroad
for the present. Shall we drop that subject, too? Let me hear your own
news--I want to know what is going on at the rectory. I have heard
nothing since you wrote me word that you were here with your aunt, and
that Madame Pratolungo had gone abroad to her father. Is Mr. Finch well?
Is he coming to Ramsgate to see you?"

I was unwilling to tell him of the misunderstanding at home. "I have not
heard from my father since I have been here," I said. "Now you have come
back, I can write and announce your return, and get all the news from the
rectory."

He looked at me rather strangely--in a way which led me to fear that he
saw some objection to my writing to my father.

"I suppose you would like Mr. Finch to come here?" he said--and then
stopped suddenly, and looked at me again.

"There is very l