established him in the most comfortable chair beside her mother, he was
so content with the change that Maurice, coming home from Cacouna, was
met by the unheard-of announcement, "Mr. Leigh is out."

He followed the truant, and found him in no hurry to return. The two
elder people, indeed, both enjoyed this visit, which seemed to carry
them back to a time brighter than the present. They talked of trifles,
but of trifles which were in a kind of harmony with the happier days of
both. Lucia, sitting at the door, where she could see the sunny
landscape and the river, listened idly to their talk, but mixed it with
her own girlish fancies; while near to her Maurice sat down, glad of the
homelike rest of the moment, glad of the friendly look of welcome with
which she met him; knowing distinctly that if at that moment he had
asked her for anything more than friendship, she would have been shocked
and distressed, but willing to enjoy to the utmost all the happiness
her present and grateful regard could give him. Not that he was content;
an unspeakable longing to get rid of all this veil of reserve, to make
her understand what she was so blind to, to carry her off from all the
frivolities which came between them, and make her love him as he thought
she might love, lay deep down in his heart and swelled up, at times
almost uncontrollably. But she never guessed it, and never should,
unless, perhaps, time should bring her a harder discipline than his.
Then, if ever she came to want love, to want happiness, it would be his
opportunity; at present, he could still wait.

This evening might well be one of enjoyment. It was the last that those
four were ever to spend together at the Cottage. Nearly a fortnight had
passed since Mr. Bellairs and his cousin had started for Sault Ste.
Marie, and they were expected back in a day or two. The preparations for
Bella's marriage were almost completed, and Lucia was looking forward