that the girl still thought that she would
be taken away from her present home on the morrow. But what would
come afterwards? The horror which the bride expressed was, as Mrs.
Carbuncle well knew, no mock feeling, no pretence at antipathy. She
tried to think of it, and to realise what might in truth be the
girl's action and ultimate fate when she should find herself in the
power of this man whom she so hated. But had not other girls done the
same thing, and lived through it all, and become fat, indifferent,
and fond of the world? It is only the first step that signifies.

At any rate, the thing must go on now;--must go on, whatever might
be the result to Lucinda or to Mrs. Carbuncle herself. Yes; it must
go on. There was, no doubt, very much of bitterness in the world
for such as them,--for persons doomed by the necessities of their
position to a continual struggle. It always had been so, and always
would be so. But each bitter cup must be drained in the hope that the
next might be sweeter. Of course the marriage must go on; though,
doubtless, this cup was very bitter.

More than once in the night Mrs. Carbuncle crept up to the door
of her niece's room, endeavouring to ascertain what might be going
on within. At two o'clock, while she was on the landing-place,
the candle was extinguished, and she could hear that Lucinda put
herself to bed. At any rate, so far, things were safe. An indistinct,
incompleted idea of some possible tragedy had flitted across the mind
of the poor woman, causing her to shake and tremble, forbidding her,
weary as she was, to lie down;--but now she told herself at last that
this was an idle phantasy, and she went to bed. Of course Lucinda
must go through with it. It had been her own doing, and Sir Griffin
was not worse than other men. As she said this to herself, Mrs.
Carbuncle hardened her heart by remembering that her own married life
had not been peculiarly happy.

Exactly at eight on the following morning she knocked at her niece's
door, and was at once bidden to enter. "Come in, Aunt Jane." The
words cheered her wonderfully. At any rate, there had been no tragedy
as yet, and as she turned the handle of the door, she felt that, as
a matter of course, the marriage would go on just like any other
marriage. She found Lucinda up and dressed,--but so dressed as
certainly to show no preparation for a wedding-toilet. She had on an
ordinary stuff morning frock, and her hair was close tucked up an