distance from Cacouna, was almost the only person connected with him by
blood; it was to her own family alone, therefore, that Bella had to look
for the deepest sympathy. But the whole neighbourhood had known her from
a child; and in her great grief every one seemed ready to claim a share.
All the kindness and goodness of heart which in ordinary times was
hidden away under the crust of each different character, flowed out
towards the young widow, and as she sat in her desolate house, sorrow
seemed to invest her with its royalty, and to transform her old friends
into loyal subjects, eager to do her but the smallest service.

And in the midst of this universal impulse of sympathy, and of the
reverence which great suffering inspires, it was impossible for the
Costellos to remain apart. Their own share in the misery did not prevent
them from feeling for the others who knew nothing of their partnership;
and Lucia forgot to accuse herself of hypocrisy when she was admitted
into the darkened room, where her once gay companion sat and watched
with heavy eyes the passing of those first days of widowhood. No one
would have recognized Bella Latour now. She sat, wan and half-lifeless,
caring for nothing except now and then to draw round her more closely a
great shawl in which she was wrapped, as if the only sensation of which
she was still capable were that of cold. Hour after hour she neither
spoke nor moved, until her sister, alarmed, and anxious by any means to
arouse her from her stupor, implored Lucia to see her, to try to make
her speak or shed the tears which, since she had seen the body of her
husband, seemed to be frozen up.

Mrs. Bellairs had not been mistaken in hoping for some good result from
Lucia's visit. At the sight of her a flood of colour rushed to Bella's
deathlike face, and she half rose to meet her; but when she felt the
long tender kiss which had a whole world of tender pity in its silent