, I must confess that Lucy
did speculate with some regret on what it would have been to be Lady
Lufton. To have been the wife of such a man, the owner of such a
heart, the mistress of such a destiny--what more or what better could
the world have done for her? And now she had thrown all that aside
because she would not endure that Lady Lufton should call her a
scheming, artful girl! Actuated by that fear she had repulsed him
with a falsehood, though the matter was one on which it was so
terribly expedient that she should tell the truth. And yet she was
cheerful with her brother and sister-in-law. It was when she was
quite alone, at night in her own room, or in her solitary walks,
that a single silent tear would gather in the corner of her eye and
gradually moisten her eyelids. "She never told her love," nor did
she allow concealment to "feed on her damask cheek." In all her
employments, in her ways about the house, and her accustomed quiet
mirth, she was the same as ever. In this she showed the peculiar
strength which God had given her. But not the less did she in truth
mourn for her lost love and spoiled ambition. "We are going to drive
over to Hogglestock this morning," Fanny said one day at breakfast.
"I suppose, Mark, you won't go with us?"

"Well, no; I think not. The pony carriage is wretched for three."

"Oh, as for that, I should have thought the new horse might have been
able to carry you as far as that. I heard you say you wanted to see
Mr. Crawley."

"So I do; and the new horse, as you call him, shall carry me there
to-morrow. Will you say that I'll be over about twelve o'clock?"

"You had better say earlier, as he is always out about the parish."

"Very well, say eleven. It is parish business about which I am going,
so it need not irk his conscience to stay in for me."

"Well, Lucy, we must drive ourselves, that's all. You shall be
charioteer going, and then we'll change coming back." To all which
Lucy agreed, and as soon as their work in the school was over they
started. Not a word had been spoken between them about Lord Lufton
since that evening, now more than a month ago, on which they had been
walking together in the garden. Lucy had so demeaned herself on that
occasion as to make her sister-in-law quite sure that there had been
no love passages up to that time; and nothing had since occurred
which had created any suspicion in Mrs. Robarts's mind. She had
seen at once that all the close intimacy be