ucy. The cloud had disappeared
entirely from her husband's brow. Instead of making any inquiries about
her visit to Farafield, or resuming the agitating discussion which had
ended in what was really a refusal on her part to do what he wished, he
was full of a desire to conciliate and please her. The matter which had
brought so stern a look to his face, and occasioned her an anxiety and
pain far more severe than anything that had occurred before in her
married life, seemed to have dropped out of his mind altogether. Instead
of that opposition and disapproval, mingled with angry suspicion, which
had been in his manner and looks, he was now on the watch to propitiate
Lucy; to show a gratitude for which she knew no reason, and a pride in
her which was still less comprehensible. What did it all mean, the
compassion on one side, the satisfaction on the other? But Lucy scarcely
asked herself the question. In her relief at having no new discussion
with her husband, and at his apparent forgetfulness of all displeasure
and of any question between them, her heart rose with all the glee of a
child's. It seemed to her that she had surmounted the difficulties of
her position by an intervention which was providential. It even occurred
to her innocent mind to make reflections as to the advantage of doing
what was right in the face of all difficulties. God, she said to
herself, evidently was protecting her. It was known in heaven what an
effort it had cost her to do her duty to fulfil her father's will, and
now heavenly succour was coming, and the difficulties disappearing out
of her way. Lucy would have been ready in any case with the most
unhesitating readiness to receive and do any kindness to her husband's
friend. No idea of jealousy had come into her unsuspicious soul. She had
taken it as a matter of course that this unknown lady should have the
best that the Hall could offer her, and that her old alliance with Sir
Tom should throw open his doors and his wife's heart. Perhaps it was
because Lucy's warm and simple-minded attachment to her husband had
little in it of the character of passion that it was thus entirely
without any impulse of jealousy. And what was so natural in common
circumstances became still more so in the exhilaration and rebound of
her troubled heart. Sir Tom was so kind to her in departing from his
opposition, in letting her have her way without a word. It was certain
that Lucy would not have relinquished her duty