ery willing to yield to, was so utterly taken by surprise
at this sudden and most earnest statement, that he could do nothing but
stare at her, with a loud alarmed exclamation, "Lucy!" and a look of
utter bewilderment in his face. But she stood this without flinching,
not nervous as many a woman might have been after delivering such a
blow, but quite still, clasping her hands in each other, facing him with
a desperate quietness. Lucy was not insensible to the tremendous nature
of the utterance she had just made.

"This is surprising, indeed, Lucy," cried Sir Tom. He grew quite pale in
that sensation of being disobeyed, which is one of the most disagreeable
that human nature is subject to. He scarcely knew what to reply to a
rebellion so complete and determined. To see her attitude, the look of
her soft girlish face (for she looked still younger than her actual
years), the firm pose of her little figure, was enough to show that it
was no rash utterance, such as many a combatant makes, to withdraw from
it one hour after. Sir Tom, in his amazement, felt his very words come
back to him; he did not know what to say. "Do you mean to tell me," he
said, almost stammering in his consternation, "that whatever I may think
or advise, and however mad this proceeding may be, you have made up your
mind to carry it out whether I will or not?"

"Tom! in every other thing I will do what you tell me. I have always
done what you told me. You know a great deal better than I do, and never
more will I go against you; but I knew papa before I knew you. He is
dead; I cannot go to him to ask him to let me off, to tell him you don't
like it, or to say it is more than I can do. If I could I would do that.
But he is dead: all that he can have is just that I should be faithful
to him. And it is not only that he put it in his will, but I gave him my
promise that I would do it. How could I break my promise to one that is
dead, that trusted in me? Oh, no, no! It will kill me if you are angry;
but even then, even then, I must do what I promised to papa."

The tears had risen to her eyes as she spoke: they filled her eyelids
full, till she saw her husband only through two blinding seas: then they
fell slowly one after another upon her dress: her face was raised to
him, her features all moving with the earnestness of her plea. The
anguish of the struggle against her heart, and desire to please him, was
such that Lucy felt what it was to be faithful till