azy."

"Where is Maurice?" said Lady Dighton. "I expected to have found him
here, as he did not come in for lunch."

"Has he not been with you then? He left me at the door, and said he
would come back this evening."

"He has not been with me, certainly, though he promised to be. I thought
you were answerable for his absence."

Lucia did not reply. Her heart beat fast, and the last words kept
ringing in her ears, "you were answerable for his absence." Was she
answerable for _any_ doings of Maurice's? Had that morning's meeting, so
strange and sudden for her, disturbed him too? She could only be silent
and feel as if she had been accused, justly accused--but of what?

Meanwhile, her silence, which was not that of indifference, seemed to
prove that the conjectures of the other two were right. They even
ventured to exchange glances of intelligence, but Mrs. Costello hastened
to fill up the break in the conversation.

"Is it true," she inquired of her visitor, "that you talk of going home
next week?"

"Yes; we only came for a fortnight at the longest; and as the affair
which brought us over seems to be happily progressing, there is no
reason for delay."

"Oh! I am sorry," Lucia said impulsively. "Maurice goes with you, does
not he?"

"_Cela depend_--he is not obliged to go just then, I suppose?"

"But surely he ought. We must make him go."

"And yet you would be sorry to lose him?"

"Of course; only--"

Another of those unexplained pauses! It was certainly a tantalizing
state of affairs, though, in fact, this last one did but mean, "only he
must be neglecting his affairs while he stops here." Lucia merely broke
off because she felt as if Lady Dighton might think the words an
impertinence.

Soon after this they parted. Something was said about to-morrow, but
they finally left all arrangements to be made when Maurice should
appear, which it was supposed he would do at dinner to the Dightons, and
after it to the Costellos.

Dinner had been long over in the little apartment in the Champs Elysees
when Maurice arrived there. The mother and daughter were sitting
together as usual, but in unusual silence--Lucia absorbed in thought,
Mrs. Costello watching and wondering, but still refraining from asking
questions. Maurice came in, looking pale and tired. Lucia got up, and
drew a chair for him near her mother. It was done with a double object;
she wanted to express her grateful affection, and she wanted to manage
s