nd that she and Lucia were
about to leave Canada. At the same time she had a long conversation with
Mr. Leigh, describing to him more of her circumstances and plans than
she wished any other person to know, and expressing the regret she felt
at leaving him in his solitude. A question, indeed, arose whether it
would not be better for him to leave his large solitary house, and
remove into the town, but this was soon decided in the negative. He
would remain where he was for the present. Maurice might yet return to
Canada; if not, possibly next year he might himself go to England. One
circumstance made Mrs. Costello and Lucia more inclined to favour this
plan--the old man's health had certainly improved. Whether it was the
link to his earlier and happier life, which had been furnished by the
late relenting of his wife's father, or from some other cause, he seemed
to have laid aside much of his infirmity, and to have returned from his
premature old age to something like vigour.

A fortnight yet remained before the cottage was to be deserted, when
Doctor Morton and his wife returned home. The gossip of the
neighbourhood which, as was inevitable, had been for a little while busy
with Mr. Percy and Lucia, was turned into another channel by their
coming, and people again occupied themselves with the bride. Lucia was
obliged to visit her friend, and to join the parties given on the
occasion, and so day after day slipped by, and the surface of affairs
seemed so unchanged that, but for one or two absent faces, it would have
been difficult to believe in all that had happened lately.

But, of course, it did at last become known that Mrs. Costello was going
away. She and Lucia both spoke of it lightly, as an ordinary occurrence
enough; but it was so unlike their usual habits, that each person who
heard the news instantly set himself or herself to guess a reason, and,
connecting it with the loss of Lucia's gay spirits, most persons came
naturally to one conclusion.

It did not matter whether they said, "Poor Lucia!" with the
half-contemptuous pity people give to what they call "a disappointment,"
or "What else could she expect?" "I told you so!" or any other of the
speeches in which we express our delight in a neighbour's
misfortunes--every way of alluding to the subject was equally
irritating to Mrs. Bellairs, who heard of it constantly, and tried in
vain to stop the tongues of her acquaintance. She could not do it; and
what she fe