Lucia's life at that time. They
brought her the consciousness of doing right--of doing what would please
Maurice, whose approbation had, all her life, been one of her dearest
rewards for "being good;" and she had also the actual enjoyment of these
quiet conversations, coming in, as they did, between the more vivid and
more troubled delights of feeling herself engrossed by a spell, to whose
power she submitted with joy indeed, but also with trembling. Every time
she now saw Bella, it appeared to her more entirely incomprehensible
that any one could act as she was doing; the mere idea of a marriage
where convenience, suitableness, common sense were the best words that
could be used to account for it, began to seem revolting. She could not
have explained why, yet she felt, at times, a positive repugnance to
take any part in the celebration of so worldly, so loveless a contract.

It was in this humour that she came back from Cacouna the evening before
the wedding. Bella had been more flippant than usual, until even Mrs.
Bellairs had completely lost patience with her, and the incorrigible
girl had only been stopped by the fear of her guardian's displeasure
from insisting on driving Lucia home, while Doctor Morton, who had been
all day absorbed by his patients, waited for her decision about some
arrangements for their journey. Lucia could not help giving her what
Bella called a lecture, but when she reached home and was seated in her
usual place at her mother's feet, she was still puzzling over the
subject, and over what Mrs. Costello had said when she first heard of
the engagement.

"Mamma," she said, at last, "do you remember saying you thought Bella's
might be a very happy marriage? I wonder if you think so still?"

"Why should not I? What is changed?"

"I don't know that anything is; but you know how tiresome she is. I
cannot imagine how Doctor Morton bears it."

"Probably, he bears it because he thinks her tiresomeness will soon be
over. When she is married and in her own house, she will have other
things to think of besides teasing him."

"But, mamma, do you think she _loves_ him?"

Mrs. Costello laughed. "Indeed, my dear, I can't tell. If she does not
now, I suppose she intends to."

"But that can't be right. Mamma, I am certain you do not think that kind
of marriage right."

"Not for all people, certainly. But for any one who is dear to me I
would far rather have a marriage of 'that kind' than one founded o