d thing!" Mrs. Wynter said as she settled herself comfortably
in the easy-chair again.

"Who was he, mamma? What did he want?"

"He was a Canadian friend of your cousin Mary's wanting her address."

"What! come over from Canada on purpose?"

"It almost seemed like it, though that could not be, I suppose, for here
is his address--'Maurice Leigh Beresford, Hunsdon, Norfolk.'"

"Beresford?" said the widow, "Why the Beresfords of Hunsdon are great
people--very grand people, indeed. I used to know something of them."

"Did he look like a grand person, mamma?"

"He seemed a gentleman, certainly. I know no more."

"Was he young or old?"

"Young."

"Handsome or ugly?"

"Need he be either?"

"Of course. Which, mamma?"

"Not ugly, decidedly. Tall, and rather dark, with a very frank,
honest-looking face."

"Young, handsome, tall, dark, and honest-looking! Mamma, he's a hero of
romance, especially coming as he did, in the rain and the night."

"Don't be silly, Tiny. Mamma, is not my cousin Lucia a great beauty?"

CHAPTER X.

Mrs. Costello and Lucia had grown, to some degree, accustomed to their
Paris life. Its novelty had at first prevented them from feeling its
loneliness; but as time went on, there began to be something dreary in
the absence of every friendly face, every familiar voice. Mrs. Costello
would not even write to Canada until she could feel tolerably sure that
her letters would only arrive after the Leighs had left; she had taken
pains to find out all Mr. Leigh could tell her of Maurice's intentions,
and she guessed that, for one reason or another, he would not be likely
to stay longer in Cacouna than was necessary. Even when she wrote to
Mrs. Bellairs she did not give her own address, but that of the banker
through whom her money was transmitted.

She felt sore and angry whenever she thought of Maurice. She had
perceived Mr. Leigh's embarrassed manner, and guessed, by a
half-conscious reasoning of her own, that he believed his son changed
towards them, but she did not guess on how very small a foundation this
belief rested. She had thought it right to give up, on Lucia's behalf,
any claim she had on the young man's fidelity; but to find him so very
ready to accept the sacrifice, was quite another thing. It was so unlike
Maurice, she said to herself; and then it occurred to her that Mr.
Beresford might have planned some marriage for his grandson as a
condition of his inheritance. Certainl