ary failure
of her interest, "and without relations--except----"

"Relations?" said the Contessa; there was something peculiar in her tone
which attracted Lucy's attention, and came back to her mind in other
days. "Ah, my Lucy, there are many things in this life which you have
never thought of. She has relations who think nothing of her, who would
be angry, be grieved, if they knew that she existed. Yes, it is terrible
to think of, but it is true. She is, on one side, of English parentage.
But pardon me, my sweetest, I did not mean to tell you all this: only,
my Lucy, you will one time be glad to think that you have been kind to
Bice. It will be a pleasure to you. Now let us think of it no more.
Marry; yes, she must marry. She has not even so much as your poor
clergyman; she has nothing, not a penny. So I must marry her, there is
nothing more to be said."

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE CONTESSA'S TRIUMPH.

And it was with very mingled sensations that Sir Tom heard from Lucy
(for it was from her lips he heard it) the intimation that Madame di
Forno-Populo was going to be so good as to remain at the Hall till they
moved to London, and then to accompany them to Park Lane. Sir Tom was
taken entirely by surprise. He was not a man who had much difficulty in
commanding himself, or showing such an aspect as he pleased to the
general world; but on this occasion he was so much surprised that his
very jaw dropped with wonder and astonishment. It was at luncheon that
the intimation was made, in the Contessa's presence, so that he did not
venture to let loose any expression of his feelings. He gave a cry, only
half uttered, of astonishment, restrained by politeness, turning his
eyes, which grew twice their size in the bewilderment of the moment,
from Lucy to the Contessa and back again. Then he burst into a
breathless laugh--a twinkle of humour lighted in those eyes which were
big with wonder, and he turned a look of amused admiration towards the
Contessa. How had she done it? There was no fathoming the cleverness of
women, he said to himself, and for the rest of the day he kept bursting
forth into little peals of laughter all by himself. How had she managed
to do it? It was a task which he himself would not have ventured to
undertake. He would not, he said to himself, have had the slightest idea
how to bring forward such a proposition. On the contrary, had not his
sense that Lucy had much to forgive in respect to this invasion of