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He went into the street and the noise and bustle of the Bowery jarred upon his sensitive ear. "To-morrow at three," he joyfully sang to himself. "To-morrow at three!" But high above the din and rattle of traffic and street noises, high above Von Barwig's song, rang out Costello's voice as if to drown his happiness. "Eat 'em alive," it said. "Eat 'em alive; eat 'em alive!"
Costello's black dress, and Lucia's softly flowing muslin, framed in the green branches of the vine and climbing roses. One of those roses went with him on his journey to remind him, if anything were needed to remind him, of the place to which, even more than to his father's house, his heart turned as home. For a whole day Lucia had scarcely once remembered Mr.
Presently the light which had returned to the sitting-room vanished altogether, and a fainter gleam stole out from what she knew to be the window of Maurice's room. She said "Good-night" softly, as if he could hear her, dropped her curtain, and was soon fast asleep. That night Mrs. Costello's lamp was extinguished long before Maurice's.
Think of these things; and do not suffer yourself to imagine that there is a bar between you and Bella just now, when I know you love her more than ever." Lucia's head lay upon her mother's knee. Mrs. Costello's touch on the soft hair, her tone of gentle reproof, and the thoughts her words called up, brought tears, fast and thick, to her child's eyes. Lucia had shed few tears in her life.
On their return to the Cottage they found Lucia watching with feverish anxiety for their coming and their news; but it was not until mother and daughter were shut up together in Mrs. Costello's room that all could be told. Nor even then; for the wife's heart had been too deeply touched; and not even her child could see into its troubled tender depths.
It was settled, without anything definite being said on the subject, that they were to remain at the Cottage until the Assizes, or just before; so that Christian, in any need, might have help at hand. When his trial was over, their future course would be decided, or, rather, Mrs. Costello's would, for it depended on the sentence.
He only knew they would probably stay some time in France." She was just going out to get into the sleigh as she spoke. Suddenly with her foot on the step she stopped, "Stay! I have the address of a friend, a cousin, I think, of Mrs. Costello's in England. Mr. Strafford sent it to me." "Thanks, thanks. I shall see you in the morning." Maurice went back joyfully into the house. Here was a clue.
"The weather has been so hot," he said, searching for something to hide his thoughts, "it is not wonderful for any one to be weakened by it. No doubt, that was the reason of Mrs. Costello's illness." Lucia remembered the letter and was silent. Then she said, "Have you really thought her looking ill lately?" "'Ill' is perhaps too strong a word. Besides, she has always said she was well." "Yes.
She advised and consulted and directed; even with the priests it was to be observed that her mild, "Well, Father, it seems to me," always won the day. She led the electricians a life of it; she became the terror of the carpenters' lives. Where was the young lady that played the violin going to stay? Send her up to Mrs. Costello's. Heavens! We were short a tablecloth! Oh, but Mrs.
Costello's secret, and demonstrating to her that far from its being a reason for depriving him of Lucia, it was an additional reason for giving her to him. Maurice tried to relieve his impatience by spending the very first half hour when he was not required to sit with his grandfather, in writing to Mrs. Costello.
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