n the fire. Lucy was as white as marble, and
felt such a sudden shock at her heart, that she could not speak. And
yet she never doubted for a moment that Frank Greystock was the man.
And with what purpose but one could he have come there? She had on
the old, old frock in which, before her visit to Lady Linlithgow,
she used to pass the morning amidst her labours with the girls,--a
pale, grey, well-worn frock, to which must have been imparted some
attraction from the milliner's art, because everybody liked it so
well,--but which she had put on this very morning as a testimony, to
all the world around her, that she had abandoned the idea of being
anything except a governess. Lady Fawn had understood the frock well.
"Here is the dear little old woman just the same as ever," Lydia had
said, embracing her. "She looks as if she'd gone to bed before the
winter, and had a long sleep, like a dormouse," said Cecilia. Lucy
had liked it all, and thoroughly appreciated the loving-kindness; but
she had known what it all meant. She had left them as the engaged
bride of Mr. Greystock, the member for Bobsborough; and now she had
come back as Lucy Morris, the governess, again. "Just the same as
ever," Lucy had said, with the sweetest smile. They all understood
that, in so saying, she renounced her lover.

And now there stood the maid, inside the room, who, having announced
that there was a gentleman asking for Miss Morris, was waiting for an
answer. Was the follower to be sent about his business, with a flea
in his ear, having come, slyly, craftily, and wickedly, in Lady
Fawn's absence; or would Miss Morris brazen it out, and go and see
him?

"Who is the gentleman?" asked Diana, who was the eldest of the Fawn
girls present.

"It's he as used to come after Miss Morris before," said the maid.

"It is Mr. Greystock," said Lucy, recovering herself with an effort.
"I had better go down to him. Will you tell him, Mary, that I'll be
with him almost immediately?"

"You ought to have put on the other frock, after all," said Nina,
whispering into her ear.

"He has not lost much time in coming to see you," said Lydia.

"I suppose it was all because he didn't like Lady Linlithgow," said
Cecilia. Lucy had not a word to say. She stood for a minute among
them, trying to think, and then she slowly left the room.

She would not condescend to alter her dress by the aid of a single
pin, or by the adjustment of a ribbon. It might well be that, afte