avourable
towards Lucy's plan of forgetting him.

Lady Verner's carriage--the most fascinating carriage in all Deerham,
with its blue and silver appointments, its fine horses, all the present
of Lionel--conveyed them to the house of Dr. West. Lady Verner would not
have gone otherwise than in state, for untold gold. Distance allowing
her, for she was not a good walker, she would have gone on foot, without
attendants, to visit the Countess of Elmsley and Lady Mary; but not
Sibylla. You can understand the distinction.

They arrived at an inopportune moment, for Lionel was there. At least,
Lionel thought it inopportune. On leaving his mother's house he had gone
to Sibylla's. And, however gratified he may have been by the speedy
compliance of his mother with his request, he had very much preferred
not to be present himself, if the call comprised, as he saw it did
comprise, Lucy Tempest.

Sibylla was at home alone; her sisters were out. She had been leaning
back in an invalid chair, listening to the words of Lionel, when a
servant opened the door and announced Lady Verner. Neither had observed
the stopping of the carriage. Carriages often stopped at the house, and
visitors entered it; but they were most frequently professional visits,
concerning nobody but Jan. Lady Verner swept in. For her very life she
could not avoid showing hauteur in that moment. Sibylla sprung from her
chair, and stood with a changing face.

Lionel's countenance, too, was changing. It was the first time he had
met Lucy face to face in the close proximity necessitated by a room. He
had studiously striven not to meet her, and had contrived to succeed.
Did he call himself a coward for it? But where was the help?

A few moments given to greeting, to the assuming of seats, and they were
settled down. Lady Verner and Decima on a sofa opposite Sibylla; Lucy
in a low chair--what she was sure to look out for; Lionel leaning
against the mantel-piece--as favourite a position of his, as a low seat
was of Lucy's. Sibylla had been startled by their entrance, and her
chest was beating. Her brilliant colour went and came, her hand was
pressed upon her bosom, as if to still it, and she lay rather back in
her chair for support. She had not assumed a widow's cap since her
arrival, and her pretty hair fell around her in a shower of gold. In
spite of Lady Verner's prejudices, she could not help thinking her very
beautiful; but she looked suspiciously delicate.

"It i