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But my uncle had lived many years, and learnt many things; and, in the deep secrets of family history that had been confided to him, he had heard of cases of innocent people bewitched and taken possession of by evil spirits yet more fearful than Lucy's.
After the strangeness wore off, something of the old natural friendliness came back into Nate's manner, and Lucy's tears ceased to flow, as her tongue wagged ever more cheerfully.
"I don't know whether you overheard, but she wants to join the Miss Alans in their mad career. It's all I can't explain it's wrong." Miss Bartlett read the letter in silence, laid it down, seemed to hesitate, and then read it again. "I can't see the point of it myself." To his astonishment, she replied: "There I cannot agree with you. In it I spy Lucy's salvation." "Really. Now, why?"
"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 was dressed neatly in a little blue cotton wrapper, and her pretty hair was arranged as usual, with the exception of one tiny curl-paper on her forehead. Lucy's hand went nervously to this curl-paper. "Oh, good-morning!" she said, breathlessly, as if she had been running. Horace returned her greeting gravely. "Can I see you a few moments, Miss Lucy?" he said.
But Maggie could not manage this in Miss Lucy's presence, and it was quite against the rules at Aylmer House for any girl to go shopping or even to leave the house unaccompanied. On one or two previous occasions Maggie had, however, managed to evade this rule without being found out, and she thought she could do so now. She planned the whole thing rather cleverly.
There is somewhere in Lord Lytton's writings writings so numerous that I may be pardoned if I cannot remember where-a critical definition of the difference between dramatic and narrative art of story, instanced by that marvellous passage in the loftiest of Sir Walter Scott's works, in which all the anguish of Ravenswood on the night before he has to meet Lucy's brother in mortal combat is conveyed without the spoken words required in tragedy.
'No, said he to himself, 'I will not endanger the comfort of my Lucy's present retreat until I can offer her a home of her own.
Oh, how true our first thought is! I come back to mine " "Then what right had she to come here and try to turn me inside out?" As the hour of Lucy's departure drew near, Mr. Fountain became anxious to see her betrothed to his friend, for fear of accidents. "You had better propose to her in form, or authorize me to do so, before she goes to that Mrs. Bazalgette."
"And weasels are vermin," cried Roger, "and he has killed Lucy's dog! But come, Joe, what nonsense is this! Father insists that you shall come back; he declares this trudging to Bristowe is sheer fooling, and had already got half a dozen fine schemes in his head for you. Mount behind me, man: the mare will carry you though you are a monster; come back and we'll be sworn brothers."
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