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Updated: June 7, 2025
Lucia found a seat in a sheltered place for Mrs. Costello, and stood near her watching the constant stream of coming and going between the ship and the shore. They had nothing to do for the present but wait, and when they had satisfied themselves that, as yet, there was no sign of Mr. Wynter's arrival, they had plenty of time to grow better acquainted with the view around them.
Costello could not resist a little self-gratulatory smile. 'All may come right yet, she thought to herself, 'if that wilful boy will only come over. "I think you are right," she said aloud. "Possibly he may come over, and then you will have an opportunity of speaking to him, perhaps."
The labourer, the half-witted fellow, the farmer and the two lads mixed with a group of servants who were looking on from an alcove, and Duallach sat with the pipers on their bench, but Costello made his way through the dancers to where Dermott of the Sheep stood with Namara of the Lake pouring Poteen out of a porcelain jug into horn noggins with silver rims.
"It may not be true," she answered, knowing that there was no need to say what "it" was the idea which had seized upon both their minds with so deadly a grasp. "It may not, God grant it! But we must know; and if it is, I ought to be here." "Mother, you cannot. It will kill you." Mrs. Costello smiled, the wan smile of long-taxed patience. "No," she said, "I think not.
Lucia knelt down, and put her arms softly round her mother's waist. "Dear mother," she said slowly, "I wish you would go back to England." Mrs. Costello started. "To England?" she said, "you know quite well that it is impossible." "You would be glad to go, mamma." "Child, you do not know how glad I should be. To die and be buried among my own people!"
He has nothing but his handsome face to offer, and there is a substantial Mr. Miller in that mysterious land of dollars. Giovanelli knows that he hasn't a title to offer. If he were only a count or a marchese! He must wonder at his luck, at the way they have taken him up." "He accounts for it by his handsome face and thinks Miss Miller a young lady qui se passe ses fantaisies!" said Mrs. Costello.
Costello was almost as much distressed as the children, and excited and mutinous argument held the Costello dinner-table that night. The Mayor, his wife noticed, paid very close attention to the conversation, but he did not allude to it until they were alone. "So Hammond'll take no favors from me, Mollie?" "I suppose that's it, Frank. Perhaps he's been nursing a grudge all these weeks.
He was never mentioned now, except during Lady Dighton's daily visit. She, much mystified, and not sure whether Lucia was to be pitied or blamed, was too kind-hearted not to sympathize with her anxiety for her mother, and she therefore came constantly first to inquire for, and then to sit with Mrs. Costello, insisting that Lucia should take that opportunity of going out in her carriage.
Costello in his most ponderous manner, "want me to present you with this er token, as a memento and a souvenir and a memorial of the occasion, in which our night professor gave us the grand shake, or words to that effect. I can't remember the exact hinkey dink they gave me; but, professor, it amounts to this," and Mr. Costello unwrapped the parcel he had so carefully brought upstairs with him.
Costello, though to some degree she had shared Lucia's stunned feeling during their journey, had watched her child with considerable anxiety, and was glad of any change in her manner. She hastened to leave the train, thinking that the few hours' rest they would have before going on board the steamer would be the best remedy for this strange torpor.
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