ss Amilly are gone to a party at Heartburg."
"Is he?" returned Lucy, referring to Jan, and surprised to hear the
news; balls not being in Jan's line.
"_I_ can't make it out," remarked Master Cheese. "He and Sir Edmund used
to be cronies, I think; so I suppose that has taken him. But I am glad
they are all off: it gives me a whole evening to myself. He and Mr.
Verner went away together."
"I wish very much to find Mr. Verner," said Lucy. "It is of great
consequence that I should see him. I suppose--you--could not--go and
look for him, Master Cheese?" she added pleadingly.
"Couldn't do it," responded Master Cheese, thinking of his forbidden
chemicals. "When Jan's away I am chief, you know, Miss Tempest. Some
cases of broken legs may be brought in, for anything I can tell."
Lucy wished him good-night and turned away. She hesitated at the corner
of the street, gazing up and down. To start on a search for Lionel
appeared to be as hopeful a project as that search renowned in
proverb--the looking for a needle in a bottle of hay. The custom in
Deerham was not to light the lamps on a moonlight night, so the street,
as Lucy glanced on either side, lay white and quiet; no glare to disturb
its peace, save for some shops, not yet closed. Mrs. Duff's, opposite,
was among the latter catalogue: and her son, Mr. Dan, appeared to be
taking a little tumbling recreation on the flags before the bay-window.
Lucy crossed over to him.
"Dan," said she, "do you happen to have seen Mr. Verner pass lately?"
Dan, just then on his head, turned himself upside down, and alighted on
his feet, humble and subdued, "Please, miss, I see'd him awhile agone
along of Mr. Jan," was the answer, pulling his hair by way of
salutation. "They went that way. Mr. Jan was all in black, he was."
The boy pointed towards Deerham Court, towards Deerham Hall. There was
little doubt that Jan was then on his way to the latter. But the
question for Lucy was--where had Lionel gone?
She could not tell; the very speculation upon it was unprofitable, since
it could lead to no certainty. Lucy turned homewards, walking quickly.
She had got past the houses, when she discerned before her in the
distance, a form which instinct--perhaps some dearer feeling told her
was that of him of whom she was in search. He was walking with a slow,
leisurely step towards his home. Lucy's heart gave a bound--that it did
so still at his sight, as it had done in the earlier days, was
|