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Miss Lucinda's visits to her brother were reminiscent of a multiplicity of children and a scarcity of room. To her the Inferno presented no more disquieting prospect than the necessity of sharing her bedroom. She always returned from these sojourns in the country with impaired digestion, and shattered nerves. She looked forward to them with dread and looked back on them with horror.
I thought it unwise to push my inquiries further, in fact I was glad to beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen; years after I heard the story of Joshua Blake from Aunt Lucinda's own lips. While we have been indulging in this digression, work has progressed steadily at Uncle Nathan's, till the last basket of apples was pared, and deposited in the back-kitchen.
Now, a new dress and especially one as nice as this was a rarity with Lucinda, who belonged to a branch of the Penhallows noted for being chronically hard up. Indeed, Lucinda and her widowed mother were positively poor, and hence a new dress was an event in Lucinda's existence.
May I tell you that you are the luckiest man in Europe?" "It isn't every girl that would suit me, Mrs. Carbuncle." "I am sure of that. I have noticed how particular you are. I won't say a word of Lucinda's beauty.
"There'll be no one to scold while Lucinda's away, and we'll get along famously. Only I suppose we will be called to a startling account when the rightful mistress of the house returns."
Carbuncle was soon quite at home with a young nobleman whom she had met in the vale with the Baron. Sir Griffin did not leave Lucinda's side, and for a while poor Lizzie felt herself alone in a crowd.
"Was he talking to a policeman?" she asked suspiciously. "Who?" "The conductor." The girls laughed. "I don't wonder you were scared," said Floss; "a policeman always does remind me of Miss Joe Hill." They called a cab and, to Miss Lucinda's vast relief, were soon rolling away from the scene of danger.
There will be three Shakspere plays that week, 'Merchant of Venice, 'Twelfth Night, and 'Hamlet." Miss Lucinda's heart fluttered in her bosom. Although she had spent a great part of her life interpreting the Bard of Avon, she had never seen one of his plays produced. In her secret soul she believed that her own rendition of "The quality of mercy," was not to be excelled.
When she hesitated, he explained to her that the matter could no longer be kept as a secret, and that her evidence would certainly appear in the papers. He proposed that she should be summoned for that day week, which would be the Friday after Lucinda's marriage, and he suggested that she should go to Mr. Camperdown's on the morrow. "What! to-morrow?" exclaimed Lizzie, in dismay.
Carbuncle, and after some words with her, was taken up into Lucinda's room. There sat the unfortunate girl, in the chair from which she had not moved since the morning. There had come over her face a look of fixed but almost idiotic resolution; her mouth was compressed, and her eyes were glazed, and she sat twiddling her book before her with her fingers.
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