d
pinned, as it might have been had she already prepared herself for a
journey. But what astonished Mrs. Carbuncle more than the dress was
the girl's manner. She was sitting at a table with a book before her,
which was afterwards found to be the Bible, and she never turned her
head as her aunt entered the room. "What, up already," said Mrs.
Carbuncle,--"and dressed?"

"Yes; I am up,--and dressed. I have been up ever so long. How was I
to lie in bed on such a morning as this? Aunt Jane, I wish you to
know as soon as possible that no earthly consideration will induce me
to leave this room to-day."

"What nonsense, Lucinda!"

"Very well;--all the same you might as well believe me. I want you
to send to Mr. Emilius, and to those girls,--and to the man. And you
had better get Lord George to let the other people know. I'm quite in
earnest."

And she was in earnest,--quite in earnest, though there was a
flightiness about her manner which induced Mrs. Carbuncle for awhile
to think that she was less so than she had been on the previous
evening. The unfortunate woman remained with her niece for an hour
and a half, imploring, threatening, scolding, and weeping. When the
maids came to the door, first one maid and then another, they were
refused entrance. It might still be possible, Mrs. Carbuncle thought,
that she would prevail. But nothing now could shake Lucinda or induce
her even to discuss the subject. She sat there looking steadfastly at
the book,--hardly answering, never defending herself, but protesting
that nothing should induce her to leave the room on that day. "Do you
want to destroy me?" Mrs. Carbuncle said at last.

"You have destroyed me," said Lucinda.

At half-past nine Lizzie Eustace came to the room, and Mrs.
Carbuncle, in her trouble, thought it better to take other counsel.
Lizzie, therefore, was admitted. "Is anything wrong?" asked Lizzie.

"Everything is wrong," said the aunt. "She says that--she won't be
married."

"Oh, Lucinda!"

"Pray speak to her, Lady Eustace. You see it is getting so late, and
she ought to be nearly dressed now. Of course she must allow herself
to be dressed."

"I am dressed," said Lucinda.

"But, dear Lucinda,--everybody will be waiting for you," said Lizzie.

"Let them wait,--till they're tired. If Aunt Jane doesn't choose to
send, it is not my fault. I sha'n't go out of this room to-day unless
I am carried out. Do you want to hear that I have murdered the man?"

The