drawn.

But Bella was really doing her friends a double service by thus talking
to Maurice. It was not only that Lucia grew if possible dearer than ever
to him from these conversations, but there was something--though Maurice
himself would not have admitted it--in making Lucia's father an object
of interest and sympathy, instead of leaving him a kind of dark but
inevitable blot on the history of the future bride.

On the evening before Mr. Leigh and his son were to start for England,
as many as possible of their old friends were gathered together at Mr.
Bellairs' for a farewell meeting. Every one there had known the
Costellos; every one remembered how Maurice and Lucia had been
perpetually associated together at all Cacouna parties; every one,
therefore, naturally thought of Lucia, and she was more frequently
spoken of than she had been at all since she left. It seemed also to be
taken for granted that Maurice would see her somewhere before long, and
he was entrusted with innumerable messages both to her and her mother.

"But," he remonstrated, "you forget that I am going to England, and that
they are in France--at least, that it is supposed so."

"Oh! yes," he was answered, "but you will be sure to see them; don't
forget the message when you do."

At last he gave up making any objection, and determined to believe what
everybody said. It was a pleasant augury, at any rate, and he was glad
to accept it for a true one.

When all the visitors were gone, and the household had retired for the
night, Mr. Bellairs and his former pupil sat together over the
drawing-room fire for one last chat. Their talk wandered over all sorts
of subjects--small incidents of law business--the prospects of some
Cacouna men who had gone to British Columbia--the voyage to England--the
position of Hunsdon--and Maurice had been persuading his host to come
over next summer for a holiday, when by some chance Percy was alluded
to.

"You have not seen or heard anything of him, I suppose?" Mr. Bellairs
asked.

"Yes, indeed, I have," Maurice answered, slowly stirring the poker about
in the ashes as he spoke. "I met him only the other day in London."

"Met him? Where?"

"On a doorstep----," and he proceeded to describe their meeting.

"I suppose you have heard of his marriage by this time."

"No. I heard from Edward Graham, an old friend of mine, that he was
going to be married, but that is the latest news I have of him."

"Oh, well, Payne