countenance were not for her child, still ignorant of all the past, to
see.

The evening passed quickly in this tumult of thoughts. Lucia was
interested in her story, and read on until ten o'clock, when Margery
came in.

"Mr. Maurice, Miss Lucia. He came in at the back, just to ask how your
mamma is. Will you speak to him?"

Lucia went out. Maurice was standing in the dark parlour, and she almost
ran against him. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, as he asked
his question.

"She is better, very much better," she answered. "But I was frightened
at first."

"Do you think it is only a passing affair? Are you afraid to be alone
to-night?"

"Not at all. Oh! Maurice, why do you ask such a question? She was quite
well this morning."

"She has not looked well for some time. But I did not mean to alarm you,
only to remind you that if you should want anything, I am always close
at hand."

He had alarmed her a little for the moment. She thought, "I have been
occupied with myself, and she has been ill perhaps for days past."
Maurice felt her tremble, and blamed himself for speaking. At that