French wonderfully fast, having a tolerable foundation to go upon and a
very quick ear, and she read and practised daily; beside learning
various secrets of housekeeping, and attending her mother with the
tenderest care. But it was very lonely. Lucia had never known what
loneliness meant until those days when she sat by the window in the
Champs Elysees and watched the busy perpetual stream of passers up and
down--the movements of a world which was close round about, yet with
which she had no one link of acquaintance or affection. It was very
lonely; and because she could not speak out her thoughts, and say, "Is
Percy here? Shall I see him some day passing, and thinking nothing of my
being near him?" she said the thing that lay next in her mind, "I wish
Maurice were here! Don't you, mamma?"

They had been more than a month in their new home. The routine of life
had grown familiar to them; they knew the outsides, at least, of all the
neighbouring shops; they had walked together to the Arc de Triomphe on
the one side, and to the Rond Point on the other; they had driven to the
Bois de Boulogne, and done some little sight-seeing beside. They had
done all, in short, to which Mrs. Costello's strength was at present
equal, and had come to a little pause, waiting for warmer weather, and
for the renewal of health, which they hoped sunshine would bring her.

One afternoon Claudine had been obliged to go out, and the little
apartment was unusually quiet. Mrs. Costello, tired with a morning
walk, had dropped into a doze; and Lucia sat by the window, her work on
her lap, and her eyes idly following the constant succession of
carriages down below. To tell the truth, she constantly outraged
Claudine's sense of propriety, by insisting on having one little crevice
uncurtained, where she could look out into the free air; and to-day she
was making use of the privilege, for want of anything more interesting
indoors. She had no fear of being disturbed, for they had no visitors;
in all Paris, there was not one person they knew, unless--. Percy had
been there a great deal formerly, she knew, and might be there now, but
he would not know where to find them if he wished it; no one could
possibly come to-day. And yet the first interruption that came in the
midst of the drowsy, sunny silence, was a ring at the door-bell. Lucia
raised her head in surprise, and listened. Mrs. Costello slept on. Who
could it be? not Claudine, for she had the key. Mu