"How do you feel now, papa?" she asked, with the utmost affection and
tenderness; "oh, do not be depressed; through all changes of life your
Lucy's affections will be with you."

"Lucy," said he, "come and kiss me."

In a moment her arms were about his neck, and she whispered
encouragingly, whilst caressing him, "Papa, now that I have not been
thrust down that fearful abyss, believe me, we shall be very happy yet."

He gave her a long look; then shook his head, but did not speak.

"Endeavor to keep up your spirits, dearest papa; you seem depressed,
but that is natural after what you have suffered. Will you take the
composing draught? It will relieve you."

"I believe it will, but I cannot take it from your hand; and he kept his
eyes fixed upon her with a melancholy gaze as he spoke.

"And why not from mine, papa? Surely you would not change your mind now.
You have taken all your medicine from me, up to this moment."

"I will take it myself, presently, Lucy."

"Will you promise me, papa?" she said, endeavoring to smile.

"Yes, Lucy, I promise you."

"But, papa, I had forgotten to say that Lord Dunroe has called to ask an
interview with me. He and Dean Palmer are now in the drawing-room."

"Have you seen him?" asked her father.

"Not yet, papa."

"Will you see him?"

"Lord Cullamore sent the Dean to me to say, that it was his earnest
request I should--his last."

"His last! Lucy. Well, then, see him--there is a great deal due to a
last request."

"Oh, yes, I shall see him. Well, good-by, papa. Remember now that you
take the composing draught; I shall return to you after I have seen Lord
Dunroe."

She was closing the door, when he recalled her. "Lucy," said he, "come
here."

"Well, papa; well, dearest papa?"

"Kiss me again," said he.

She stooped as before, and putting her arms about his neck, kissed him
like a child. He took her hand in his, and looked on her with the same
long earnest look, and putting it to his lips, kissed it; and as he did,
Lucy felt a tear fall upon it. "Lucy," said he, "I have one word to say
to you."

Lucy was already in tears; that one little drop--the symptom of an
emotion she had never witnessed before--and she trusted the forerunner
of a softened and repentant heart, had already melted hers.

"Lucy," he said, "forgive me."

The floodgates of her heart and of her eyes were opened at once. She
threw herself on his bosom; she kissed him, and wept long and loudly.