en
tamed and come back to you! I am sure I can't be so naughty now, since
he has thought of me!'

'Lucy, dearest, I am glad to see you so happy, but it is very strange to
me. It is such a sudden change,' said Honor.

'No change! I never cared for any one half as much!'

'Lucy!' confounded at her apparent oblivion.

'It is true,' said Lucy, sitting down by her. 'Perhaps I thought I did,
but if the other had ever been as much to me, I could never have used him
as I did! Oh, Honor, when a person is made of the stuff I am, it is very
hard to tell which is one's heart, and which is one's flirting-machine!
for the other thing does simulate all the motions, and feel real true
pain! But I know now that Mr. Pendy was safe in my rear heart of hearts
all the time, though I never guessed it, and thought he was only a sort
of father; but you see that was why I was always in awe of getting under
Robert's dominion, and why I survived his turning me off, and didn't at
all wish him to bring it on again.'

'No, that you did not,' said Honor, in a cheered voice, as if acquitting
her.

'And I am sure if Mr. Prendergast only looked like using me after my
deserts, as _he_ did, it would not be only a demi-decline that I should
get into,' said Lucilla, her eyes full of tears. 'Oh! Honor, think of
his care of my father! Kiss me and wish me joy in my father's name, and
like him; for when you know him, you will see he is the only person in
the wide world to whom you could safely trust your little torment!'

Honor could not but be carried along to give the hearty kiss and motherly
congratulation as they were sought, and she saw that she must believe
what Lucy said of her own feelings, incomprehensible though they were.
But she regretted to hear of the waiting for a college living, and at the
first impulse wished she had heard of this attachment before Hiltonbury's
fate had been fixed.

'For shame, Honor, as if you ought not to respect Hiltonbury too much to
tack it to my petticoat! But at least thank you, for if you could once
think of committing Hiltonbury to him, you must like it for me.'

'I must like what is so evidently well for you, my child! Will you tell
Phoebe?'

'Not till we go home, I think,' said Cilla, with a blush; and, as if to
avoid farther discussion, she bade Honora good night. Decidedly, she
wished Robert to feel more than she would like to see, or should he
betray no feeling, she had rather not be aware o