been altogether
unacceptable to Aunt Emmeline. "She can do as she pleases, of
course," Sir Thomas had said. That might be all very well; but Aunt
Emmeline was strongly of opinion that an adopted daughter of Queen's
Gate, of Glenbogie, and Merle Park, ought not to be allowed to do as
she pleased with herself. A girl ought not to be allowed to have the
luxuries of palatial residences, and the luxuries of free liberty of
choice at the same time. More than once it had occurred to Sir Thomas
that he would put an end to all these miseries by a mere scratch of
his pen. It need not be L120,000, or L100,000, as with a daughter.
A few modest thousands would do it. And then this man Hamel, though
the circumstances of his birth had been unfortunate, was not an idler
like Frank Houston. As far as Sir Thomas could learn, the man did
work, and was willing to work. The present small income earned would
gradually become more. He had a kindly feeling towards Lucy, although
he had been inclined to own that her marriage with Hamel was out of
the question. "My dear," he said to her, "why are you walking about
alone?" She did not like to say that she was walking alone because
she had no one to walk with her,--no such companion as Isadore would
be if Isadore were allowed to come to Merle Park; so she simply
smiled, and went on by her uncle's side. "Do you like this place as
well as Glenbogie?" he asked.

"Oh; yes."

"Perhaps you will be glad to get back to London again?"

"Oh; no."

"Which do you like best, then?"

"They are all so nice, if--"

"If what, Lucy?"

"Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt," Lucy might have
said, had she known the passage. As it was she put the same feeling
into simpler words, "I should like one as well as the other, Uncle
Tom, if things went comfortably."

"There's a great deal in that," he said. "I suppose the meaning is,
that you do not get on well with your aunt?"

"I am afraid she is angry with me, Uncle Tom."

"Why do you make her angry, Lucy? When she tells you what is your
duty, why do you not endeavour to do it?"

"I cannot do what she tells me," said Lucy; "and, as I cannot, I
think I ought not to be here."

"Have you anywhere else to go to?" To this she made no reply, but
walked on in silence. "When you say you ought not to be here, what
idea have you formed in your own mind as to the future?"

"That I shall marry Mr. Hamel, some day."

"Do you think it would be well to marr