finally he became so weary of thinking incessantly of one subject, but
never speaking of it, that he made up his mind to take his cousin to
some degree into his confidence. To some degree only--it could be a very
small degree indeed, according to his ideas, for he could not tell her
all, even of the little he knew, about the Costellos, and he had no
intention of speaking much about Lucia, only mentioning her as an old
playfellow of his sister's; quite forgetting that he would have either
to change his own nature, or to dull Lady Dighton's ears and eyes,
before he could talk of _her_, and not betray himself.

But a good opportunity for this confidence seemed hard to find, and
whenever one did really occur Maurice let it slip, so that time passed
on, and nothing was said; until at last, a new trouble came, so heavy
and incomprehensible as entirely to eclipse the former ones.

One morning, about six weeks after his arrival at Hunsdon, there arrived
for Maurice two Canadian letters and a newspaper; the letters from his
father and Mrs. Costello, the newspaper addressed by Harry Scott.
Maurice dutifully opened Mr. Leigh's letter first; he meant just to see
that all was well, and then to read the other; but the news upon which
his eye fell, put everything else for the moment out of his head. He
glanced half incredulously over what his father said, and then tore open
the newspaper to seek for its confirmation. He had not far to seek. Two
columns of the thin provincial sheet were scored with black crosses, and
bore the ominous heading, "Dreadful Murder!" in the largest capitals. He
read the whole terrible story through, and thought, as well as he could,
over it, before he remembered the second and still unopened letter.

But no sooner had he opened and read this, than the news which had just
before seemed to bring the most fearful realities of life and death so