ot unfrequently on such occasions
was her wont. Lucy was working and continued her work, and Lord
Lufton for a moment or two sat looking at her; then he got up
abruptly, and, standing before her, thus questioned her:--

"Lucy," said he.

"Well, what of Lucy now? Any particular fault this morning?"

"Yes, a most particular fault. When I asked you, here, in this room,
on this very spot, whether it was possible that you should love
me--why did you say that it was impossible?"

Lucy, instead of answering at the moment, looked down upon the
carpet, to see if his memory were as good as hers. Yes; he was
standing on the exact spot where he had stood before. No spot in all
the world was more frequently clear before her own eyes.

"Do you remember that day, Lucy?" he said again.

"Yes, I remember it," she said.

"Why did you say it was impossible?

"Did I say impossible?" She knew that she had said so. She remembered
how she had waited till he had gone, and that then, going to her own
room, she had reproached herself with the cowardice of the falsehood.
She had lied to him then; and now--how was she punished for it?

"Well, I suppose it was possible," she said.

"But why did you say so when you knew it would make me so miserable?"

"Miserable! nay, but you went away happy enough! I thought I had
never seen you look better satisfied."

"Lucy!"

"You had done your duty, and had had such a lucky escape! What
astonishes me is that you should have ever come back again. But the
pitcher may go to the well once too often, Lord Lufton."

"But will you tell me the truth now?"

"What truth?"

"That day, when I came to you--did you love me at all then?"

"We'll let bygones be bygones, if you please."

"But I swear you shall tell me. It was such a cruel thing to answer
me as you did, unless you meant it. And yet you never saw me again
till after my mother had been over for you to Mrs. Crawley's."

"It was absence that made me--care for you."

"Lucy, I swear I believe you loved me then."

"Ludovic, some conjurer must have told you that." She was standing
as she spoke, and, laughing at him, she held up her hands and shook
her head. But she was now in his power, and he had his revenge--his
revenge for her past falsehood and her present joke. How could he be
more happy when he was made happy by having her all his own, than
he was now? And in these days there again came up that petition as
to her riding--with very diffe