y she had heard no hint of such a
thing, and up to a short time ago she was pretty sure Maurice himself
could have had no idea of it; yet it was perfectly possible, and Mr.
Leigh might have been warned to say nothing to her about it. All these
thoughts, though Maurice might, if he had known, have been inclined to
resent them, had the effect of keeping him constantly in Mrs. Costello's
mind; and she puzzled over his conduct until she came to have her wishes
pretty equally divided; on one hand, desiring to keep to her plan of a
total separation between Lucia and him; and on the other, longing to see
or hear of him, in order to know whether her former or her present
opinion of him was the correct one.

It happened, therefore, that Maurice was much more frequently spoken of
between the mother and daughter than should have been the case if Mrs.
Costello had carried out her theories. If Lucia had been ever so little
"in love" with him when she reached Paris, she would have had plenty of
opportunity for increasing her fancy by dwelling on the object of it;
but Mrs. Costello's wishes were forwarded by the very last means she
would have chosen as her auxiliary. Lucia talked of Maurice because she
thought of him as a friend, or rather as a dear brother. She said
nothing of Percy, but she dreamt of him, and longed inexpressibly to
hear even his name mentioned. She had heard nothing of him, except some
slight casual mention, since he went away. He had said then that,
perhaps in a year, she might change her mind; and she had said to
herself, "Surely he will not forget me in a year." And now spring was
coming round again, and all that had separated them was removed; there
was not even the obstacle of distance; no Atlantic rolled between them;
nay, they might be even in the same city. But how would he know? She
could do nothing. She had done all in her power to make their parting
final. How could she undo it now? She did not dare even to speak to her
mother of him, for she knew that on that one subject alone there had
never been sympathy between them. And she said to herself, too, deep in
her own heart, that it must be a great love indeed which would be
willing to take her--a poor, simple, half-Indian girl--and brave the
world, and, above all, that terrible old earl and his pride, for her
sake.

Still she dreamed and hoped, and set herself, meanwhile, all the more
vigorously because of that hope, to "improve her mind." She picked up