comprehend that the lady was ill; and that he was
going for a carriage. He then hurried out, and Lucia was left alone in
the chapel with the good-natured Frenchwoman, who looked at her
compassionately and troubled her with no questions.

For a few minutes the poor child remained too bewildered to notice
anything; but when at last she raised her head, and saw that Maurice was
not there, she grew frightened. Had she been so childish and
uncontrolled as to have disgusted even him? Had he left her, too? She
tried to get up from her seat, but she could not stand. The guide saw
her attempt, and thought it time to interfere.

"Monsieur would be back immediately," she said. "He was gone for a
carriage. It was unfortunate madame should be taken ill so suddenly."

Lucia smiled a very miserable kind of smile.

"Yes," she answered, "it was unfortunate, but it was only a little
giddiness."

And there she broke off to listen to the sound of wheels which stopped
at the gate.

It was Maurice; and at the sight of him Lucia felt strong again. She
rose and met him as he came towards her.

"I have got a carriage," he said. "We had walked too far. Can you go to
it?"

She could find nothing to say in answer. He made her lean on his arm,
and took her across the court and put her into the vehicle.

"Would you rather go alone?" he asked her.

"Oh! no, no," she cried nervously, and in a minute afterwards they were
on their way homewards.

When they had started, she put her hand to her head confusedly.

"Is not it strange?" she said half to herself. "I was sure we should
meet in Paris; only I never guessed it would be to-day. Across a grave,
that was right."

Maurice shuddered at her tone; it sounded as if she were talking in her
sleep.

"Dear Lucia," he said, "scold me, be angry with me. I should have told
you."

She seemed to wake at the sound of his voice, and again that burning,
painful flush covered her face and neck.

"Oh! Maurice," she cried, "it is you who should scold me. What must you
think? But, indeed, I am not so bad as I seem."

"It is I who have been blind. I thought you had forgotten him."

"Forgotten him? So soon? I thought he could not even have forgotten me!"

Maurice clenched his hand. The very simplicity of her words stirred his
anger more deeply against his successful rival. For _her_ he had still
nothing but the most pitiful tenderness.

"Some men, Lucia, love themselves too well to have any great