know. I suppose I must tell
her, if you will not come in now."

"Not now. I must arrange my thoughts a little first. After all, Lucia,
you don't know how little I have to offer you."

"What does that matter?" she asked simply. "Mamma will not care--nor I."

"You will not, of course. You would be content to live like a bird, on
next to nothing; but then you know nothing of the world."

"No, indeed. I am nothing better than a baby."

"You are a million times better than any other woman, and will make the
best and dearest of wives--if you had only a luckier fellow for a
husband."

"Are you unlucky, really? Are you very poor?"

"Poor enough for a hermit. My father is not much richer; and as I have
the good fortune to be a younger son, the little he has will go to
George, my elder brother, not to me."

Lucia was silent a moment, thinking.

"Are you frightened?" he asked her. "You did not know things were quite
so bad?"

"I am not frightened," she answered. "But I was considering. Mamma has
some money; she would give me what she could, but I am not like Bella,
you know. I have not any fortune at all."

Mr. Percy laughed, "Do not puzzle yourself over such difficulties
to-night, at any rate. Leave me to think of those. I will tell you what
you must do. Make up your mind to be as charming as possible when you
see my father, and fascinate him in spite of himself; for, I assure you
he will not very readily forgive us for deranging his plans. Good-night
now, I shall be here early to-morrow."

He went away up the lane, while she lingered yet for a moment, looking
after him, trying to understand clearly what had happened--to realize
this wonderful happiness which was yet only like a dream. How could she
go out of the soft summer darkness into the bright light of the parlour
and its every day associations? But as she retraced every word and look
of the past hour, she came back at last to the horrible recollection of
the Indian who had alarmed her. That hideous besotted face seemed to
stare at her again through the obscurity, and, trembling with fright,
she hurried through the garden and up the verandah steps.

Mrs. Costello was sitting at work by the table where the light fell
brightly, but Lucia was glad that the lamp-shade threw most of the room
into comparative darkness. Even as it was, she came with shy lingering
steps to her mother's side, and was in no hurry to answer her question,
"Where have you been loitering