aughter's future.

"Certainly," she thought, "Maurice may be satisfied with the affection
she has for him; if it is not just the kind of love he wishes for, that
is only because it has never entered her mind that he could be anything
but a brother to her. She is so excessively childish in some things! I
shall be glad now when she really does begin to understand. Only, must I
part with her? Better that than that I should leave her alone; better
even than that she should have to go among strange relatives."

Maurice had asked Lucia to walk with him for the sake of having her
quite to himself for an hour, and perhaps of asking that much meditated
question. He had specially bargained that they were not to "go
anywhere;" but simply to choose a tolerably quiet road and go straight
along it. Accordingly they started, and went slowly up the sunny slope
towards the great arch, talking of yesterday, and of the trifles which
always seemed interesting when they spoke of them together. After they
had passed the barrier, they hesitated a little which road to take--they
had already made several expeditions in this direction, and Lucia wanted
novelty. Finally they took the road to Neuilly, and went on for a time
very contentedly. But Maurice, after a while, fell into little fits of
silence, thinking how he should first speak of the subject most
important to him. He felt that there could be no better opportunity than
this, and he was not cool enough to reflect that it was waste of trouble
to try to choose his words, since if Lucia accepted him she would for
ever think them eloquent; and if she refused him, would be certain to
consider them stupid. She, on the other hand, was in unusually high
spirits. It had occurred to her that Lady Dighton, who seemed to know
everybody, would probably know Percy. She had begun already to lay deep
plans for finding out if this was the case, and after that, where he
was at present. She had thought of him so much lately, and so tenderly;
she had remembered so often his earnestness and her own harshness in
that last interview, that she felt as if she owed him some reparation,
and as if his love were far more ardent than hers, and must needs be
more stable also. The idea that she had advanced a step towards the
happiness of meeting him again, added the last ingredient to her
content. She could have danced for joy.

They walked a considerable distance, and Maurice had not yet found
courage for what he wan