nly old enough to be his elder
sister.

Once sheltered in the vehicle, I could draw my breath again, and reward
him for all the anxiety he had caused me by giving him a kiss. I might
have given him a thousand kisses. Amazement made him a perfectly passive
creature in my hands. He only repeated faintly, over and over again,
"What does it mean? what does it mean?"

"It means that you have friends, you wretch, who are fools enough to be
too fond of you to give you up!" I said. "I am one of the fools. You will
come to England with me to-morrow--and see for yourself if Lucilla is not
another."

That reference to Lucilla restored him to the possession of his senses.
He began to ask the questions that naturally occurred to him under the
circumstances. Having plenty of questions in reserve, on my side, I told
him briefly enough what had brought me to Marseilles, and what I had
done, during my residence in that city, towards discovering the place of
his retreat.

When he asked me next--after a momentary struggle with himself--what I
could tell him of Nugent and Lucilla, it is not to be denied that I
hesitated before I answered him. A moment's consideration, however, was
enough to decide me on speaking out--for this plain reason, that a
moment's consideration reminded me of the troubles and annoyances which
had already befallen us as the result of concealing the truth. I told
Oscar honestly all that I have related here--starting from my night
interview with Nugent at Browndown, and ending with my precautionary
measures for the protection of Lucilla while she was living under the
care of her aunt.

I was greatly interested in watching the effect which these disclosures
produced on Oscar.

My observation led me to form two conclusions. First conclusion, that
time and absence had not produced the slightest change in the love which
the poor fellow bore to Lucilla. Second conclusion, that nothing but
absolute proof would induce him to agree in my unfavorable opinion of his
brother's character. It was in vain I declared that Nugent had quitted
England pledged to find him, and had left it to me (as the event now
proved) to make the discovery. He owned readily that he had seen nothing,
and heard nothing, of Nugent. Nevertheless his confidence in his brother
remained unshaken. "Nugent is the soul of honor," he repeated again and
again--with a side-look at me which suggested that my frankly-avowed
opinion of his brother had hurt an