charm of her grace and beauty had influenced even him, and failed
utterly to estimate their effect upon others. He said to himself that
Mr. Percy was a mere selfish fop, who, tired of the amusements of Europe
and too effeminate for the hardier enjoyments of a new country, was
driven by mere emptiness of head to occupy himself with the pursuit of
the prettiest woman he met with.

Meanwhile Mr. Percy came and went, and found in his visits to the
Cottage an entirely new kind of distraction. It was strange to him to
find himself welcomed and valued, genuinely, if shyly, for his own sake.
He had known vulgar women, who had flattered him because he was the son
of an earl; and prudent ones who gave him but a carefully measured
civility, because he was a portionless younger son. Here he knew that
both facts were absolutely nothing; and egotist as he was, this
knowledge stirred most powerfully such depths as his nature possessed.
In Lucia's presence he became almost as unworldly as herself; he gave
himself up half willingly, half unconsciously to the enjoyment of
feelings which no woman less thoroughly simple and natural could have
awakened; but, it is true that when he left her he left also this
strange region of sensations--he returned precisely to his former self.

The only person, perhaps, who did him strict and complete justice was
Mrs. Costello. She, who had peculiar reasons for looking with
unspeakable terror upon the suitors whom her child's beauty was certain
to attract, had weighed each look, word, gesture--gleaned such knowledge
as she could of his life, past and present, and judged him at last with
an accuracy which her intense interest in the subject made almost
perfect. Over this result she both rejoiced and lamented; but for the
present the one idea most constantly and strongly present to her was
that Lucia must pass by-and-by, only too soon, out of the sweet hopes