glad, may I not?"

She half timidly held out her hand as she spoke. Lionel took it between
both of his, toying with it as tenderly as he had ever toyed with
Sibylla's. And his low voice took a tone which was certainly not that of
hatred, as he bent towards her.

"I am glad also, Lucy. The least pleasant part of my recent projected
departure was the constantly remembered fact that I was about to put a
distance of many miles between myself and you. It grew all too palpable
towards the last."

Lucy laughed and drew away her hand, her radiant countenance falling
before the gaze of Lionel.

"So you will be troubled with me yet, you see, Miss Lucy," he added, in
a lighter tone, as he left her and strode off with a step that might
have matched Jan's, on his way to ask the bells whether they were not
ashamed of themselves.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ROY EATING HUMBLE PIE.

And so the laws of right and justice had eventually triumphed, and
Lionel Verner took possession of his own. Mrs. Verner took possession of
her own--her chamber; all she was ever again likely to take possession
of at Verner's Pride. She had no particular ailment, unless heaviness
could be called an ailment, and steadily refused any suggestion of
Jan's.

"You'll go off in a fit," said plain Jan to her.

"Then I must go," replied Mrs. Verner. "I can't submit to be made
wretched with your medical and surgical remedies, Mr. Jan. Old people
should be let alone, to doze away their days in peace."

"As good give some old people poison outright, as let them always doze,"
remonstrated Jan.

"You'd like me to live sparingly--to starve myself, in short--and you'd
like me to take exercise!" returned Mrs. Verner. "Wouldn't you, now?"

"It would add ten years to your life," said Jan.

"I dare say! It's of no use your coming preaching to me, Mr. Jan. Go and
try your eloquence upon others. I always have had enough to eat, and I
hope I always shall. And as to my getting about, or walking, I _can't_.
When folks come to be my size, it's cruel to want them to do it."

Mrs. Verner was nodding before she had well spoken the last words, and
Jan said no more. You may have met with some such case in your own
experience.

When the news of Lionel Verner's succession fell upon Roy, the bailiff,
he could have gnashed his teeth in very vexation. Had he foreseen what
was to happen he would have played his cards so differently. It had not
entered into the head-piece of Roy