t to
look at a home face, and you are as fresh and as innocent as if not a
year had passed over you.'
Lucilla fervently kissed her again, and then holding her hand, gazed at
her as if unwilling that either should break the happy silence. Meantime
Phoebe was shocked to see how completely Robert's alarms were justified
by Lucy's appearance. The mere absence of the coquettish ringlets made a
considerable difference, and the pale colour of the hair, as it was
plainly braided, increased the wanness of her appearance. The
transparent complexion had lost the lovely carnation of the cheek, but
the meandering veins of the temples and eyelids were painfully apparent;
and with the eyes so large and clear as to be more like veronicas than
ever, made the effect almost ghastly, together with excessive fragility
of the form, and the shadowy thinness of the hand that held Phoebe's.
Bertha's fingers, at her weakest, had been more substantial than these
small things, which had, however, as much character and force in their
grasp as ever.
'Lucy, I am sure you are ill! How thin you are!'
'Well, then, cod-liver oil is a base deception! Never mind that--let me
hear of Honor--are you with her?'
'No, my sisters are, but I am with Augusta.'
'Then you do not come from her?'
'No; she does not know.'
'You excellent Phoebe; what have you done to keep that bonny honest face
all this time to refresh weary eyes--being a little heroine, too. Well,
but the Honor--the old sweet Honey--is she her very self?'
'Indeed, I hope so; she has been so very kind to us.'
'And found subjects in you not too cross-grained for her kindness to be
palatable! Ah! a good hard plunge into the world teaches one what one
left in the friendly ship! Not that mine has been a hard one. I am not
one of the pathetic governesses of fiction. Every one has been kinder to
me than I am worth--But, oh! to hear myself called Lucy again!'--and she
hid her face on Phoebe's shoulder in another access of emotion.
'You used not to like it.'
'My Cilly days were over long ago. Only one person ever used to call me
Cilla;' and she paused, and went on afresh--'So it was for Bertha's sake
and Mervyn's that Honor escorted you abroad. So much Robert told me; but
I don't understand it yet. It had haunted me the whole winter that
Robert was the only Mr. Fulmort _she_ could nurse; and if he told you I
was upset, it was that I did not quite know whether he were ghost o
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