scaping, of somehow
earning a personal independence--such was not for persons in her world,
she said. She was not horrified by her own probable fate. She was not
unhappy, but amused and interested in her life, and taking everything
gaily, both the present quiet and the tumult of the many "seasons" in
watering-places and other resorts of gaiety through which, young as she
was, she had already gone. She had looked at Lucy with a smile, which
was half cynical, and altogether decisive, when the anxious young matron
had pointed out to her the way of escaping from such a sale and bargain.
She did not want to escape. It seemed to her right and natural. She
walked as lightly as a bird with this yoke upon her shoulders. Lucy had
never met anything of this kind before, and it called forth a sort of
panic in her mind. She did not know how to deal with it; but neither
would she give it up. She had something else to think upon, when the
Contessa, lying back on her sofa, almost going to sleep before Sir Tom
entered, roused herself on the moment to occupy and amuse him all the
evening. Instead of thinking of that and making herself unhappy, Lucy
looked the other way at Bice reading a novel rapidly at the other side
of the table, with all her young savage faculties about her to see and
hear everything. How to get her delivered from her fate! To make her
feel that deliverance was necessary, to save her before she should be
sacrificed, and take her out of her present slavery. It was very strange
that it never occurred to Lucy to free the girl by making her one of the
recipients of the money she had to give away. She was very faithful to
the letter of her father's will, and he had excluded foreigners. But
even that was not the reason. The reason was that it did not occur to
her. She thought of every way of relieving the too-contented thrall
before her except that way. And in the meantime the time wore on, and
everything fell into a routine, and not a word was said of the
Contessa's plans. It was evident, for the time being at least, that she
meant to make no change, but was fully minded, notwithstanding the
dullness of the country, to remain where she was.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE TWO STRANGERS.

The Contessa did not turn her head or change her position when Bice
entered. She said, "You have not been out?" in a tone which was half
question and half reproof.

"It rained, and there is nothing to breathe but the damp and fog."

"Wha