citude and tenderness that were unhappily only an additional
oppression; and all Lucilla's aversion to solitude did not prevent her
friend's absence from being a relief. It was all that she could at
present desire to be released from the effort of being companionable, and
be able to indulge her languor without remark, her wayward appetite
without causing distress, and her dejection without caresses,
commiseration, or secret imputations on Robert.

Tidings came from Vancouver's Land of her uncle's death by an accident.
Long as it was since she had seen him, the loss was deeply felt. She
better appreciated what his care of her father had been, and knew better
what gratitude he deserved, and it was a sore disappointment that he
should not live to see her prove her repentance for all her flightiness
and self-will. Moreover, his death, without a son, would enable his
nephew to alienate the family estate; and Lucy looked on this as direful
shame and humiliation. Still there was something soothing in having a
sorrow that could be shared with Miss Charlecote; and the tangible cause
for depression and retirement was a positive comfort.

'Trouble' was the chief dread of her wearied spirit; and though she had
exerted herself to devise and work the banners, she could not attempt
being present at the grand Forest show, and marvelled to see Honor set
off, with twice her years and more than twice her sorrows, yet full of
the fresh eagerness of youthful anticipation, and youthful regrets at
leaving her behind, and at having nothing to figure at the show!

But vegetables were not the order of that day, the most memorable the
Forest had perhaps ever known, since six bold Lancastrian outlaws had
there been hung, on the very knoll where the flag of England was always
hoisted, superior to the flags of all the villages.

The country population and the exhibitors were all early in the field,
and on the watch for the great feature of the day--the Londoners. What
cheering rent the air as the first vehicle from the little Forest station
appeared, an old stage-coach, clustered within and without by white bibs,
tippets, and caps, blue frocks, and grave, demure faces, uncertain
whether to be charmed or frightened at their elevation and reception, and
almost dazzled by the bright sunshine and pure air, to their perception
absolutely thin, though heavy laden with the scents of new-mown hay and
trodden ferns.

The horses are stopped, down spr