ontessa did not understand. Sir Tom, indeed, was comprehensible. The
discovery which he thought he had made, the things which she had allowed
him to divine, and even permitted him to prove for himself without
making a single assertion on her own part, were quite sufficient to
account for his changed looks. But Lucy, what had she found out? It was
not likely that Sir Tom had communicated his discovery to her. Lucy's
demeanour confused the Contessa more than words can say. The simple
creature had grown into a strange dignity, which nothing could explain.
Instead of the sweet compliance and almost obedience of former days, the
deference of the younger to the older woman, Lucy looked at her with
grave composure, as of an equal or superior. What had happened to the
girl? And it was so important that she should be friendly now and kept
in good humour! Madame di Forno-Populo put forth all her attractions,
gave her dear Lucy her sweetest looks and words, but made very little
impression. This gave her a little tremor when she thought of it; for
all her plans for the future were connected with the ball on the 26th at
Park Lane.

This ball appeared to Lucy, too, the most important crisis in her life.
She had made a sacrifice which was heroic that nothing might go wrong
upon that day. Somehow or other, she could not tell how, for the
struggle had been desperate within her, she had subdued the emotion in
her own heart and schooled herself to an acceptance of the old routine
of her life until that event should be over. All her calculations went
to that date, but not beyond. Life seemed to stop short there. It had
been arranged and settled with a light heart in the pleasure of knowing
that the Contessa had taken a house for herself, and that, consequently,
Lucy was henceforward to be once more mistress of her own. She had been
so ashamed of her own pleasure in this prospect, so full of compunctions
in respect to her guest, whose departure made her happy, that she had
thrown herself with enthusiasm into this expedient for making it up to
them. She had said it was to be Bice's ball. When the Dowager's
revelation came upon her like a thunderbolt, as soon as she was able to
think at all, she had thought of this ball with a depth of emotion which
was strange to be excited by so frivolous a matter. It was a pledge of
the warmest friendship, but those for whom it was to be, had turned out
the enemies of her peace, the destroyers of her happin