ucia found a seat in a
sheltered place for Mrs. Costello, and stood near her watching the
constant stream of coming and going between the ship and the shore. They
had nothing to do for the present but wait, and when they had satisfied
themselves that, as yet, there was no sign of Mr. Wynter's arrival,
they had plenty of time to grow better acquainted with the view around
them.

The long low point of land beside which they lay; the town in front,
with a flood of cold sunlight resting on its low round tower, and the
white sugar-loaf shaped monument, which was once the sailor's
landmark--the lofty chapel piously dedicated to Notre Dame de Bons
Secours now superseding it--the broad mouth of the Seine and the Norman
shore, bending away to the right--all these photographed themselves on
Lucia's memory as the first-seen features of that new world where her
life was henceforth to be passed.

At last, when nearly all their fellow-passengers had bidden them
good-bye and left the ship, they saw a gentleman coming on board whom
they both felt by some instinct to be Mr. Wynter. He was a portly,
white-bearded man, as strange to Mrs. Costello as to Lucia, for the last
twenty years had totally changed him from the aspect she remembered and
had described to her daughter. Perhaps his nature as well as his looks
had grown more genial; at any rate, he had a warm and affectionate
greeting for the strangers, and if he had any painful or embarrassing
recollection such as agitated his cousin, he knew how perfectly to
conceal them. He had arrived the day before, but on arriving had heard
that the 'Atalanta' was not expected for twenty-four hours, so that the
news of her being in port came to him quite unexpectedly. He explained
all this as they stood on deck, and then hurried to see their luggage
brought up, and to transfer them to the carriage he had brought from his
hotel.

Lucia felt herself happily released from her cares. She had no
inclination to like, or depend upon, her future guardian; but without
thinking about it, she allowed him to take the management of their
affairs, and to fall into the same place as Mr. Strafford had occupied
during their American journey.

Only there was a difference; she was awake now, and hopeful, naturally
pleased with all that was new and curious, and only kept from thorough
light-heartedness by her mother's feeble and fatigued condition.

CHAPTER V.

Mrs. Costello seemed to grow stronger fr