Another event added to his interest in Lucy. In returning to his estates, he passed so near her mother's, that curiosity urged him to visit it. He asked to be shown the room in which Miss Edgarmond usually studied: it was filled by remembrances of the time his father had passed there during his own absence in France. On the spot where, a few months before his death, the late Lord Nevil had given her lessons, Lucy had erected a marble pedestal, on which was graven, "To the memory of my second father." A book lay on the table. Oswald opened it, and found a collection of his father's thoughts, who in the first page had written: "To her who has solaced me in my sorrows; the maid whose angelic soul will constitute the glory and happiness of her husband." With what emotion Oswald read these lines! in which the opinion of the revered dead was so warmly expressed. He interpreted Lucy's silence on this subject into a delicacy which feared to extort his vows by an idea of duty. "It was she, then," he cried, "who softened the pangs I dealt him; and shall I desert her while her mother is dying, and she has no comforter but myself? Ah, Corinne! brilliant and admired as thou art, thou dost not, like Lucy, stand in need of one devoted friend!" Alas! she was no longer brilliant, no longer admired, wandering from town to town, without overtaking the being for whom she had lost all, and whom she could not forget. She was taken ill at an inn, half-way between London and Edinburgh, and, in spite of all her efforts, unable to continue her journey. She often thought, during her long nights of suffering, that if she died there, none but Thérésina would know the name to inscribe upon her tomb. What a changed fate for the woman who could not leave her house in Italy without being followed by a host of worshippers! Why should one single feeling thus despoil a whole life? After a week of intense agony, she resumed her route: so many painful fears mingled with the hope of seeing Oswald, that her expectation was but a sad anxiety. She designed to rest a few hours on her father's land, where his tomb had been erected, never having been there since; indeed, she only spent one month on this estate with Lord Edgarmond, the happiest portion of her stay in England. These recollections inspired her with a wish to revisit their scene. She knew not that her step-mother was there already. Some miles from the house, perceiving that a carriage had been overturned, she stopped her own, and saw an old gentleman extricated from that which had broken down, much alarmed by the shock. Corinne hurried to his assistance, and offered him a share of her conveyance to the neighboring town: he accepted it gratefully, announcing himself as Mr. Dickson: she remembered that Nevil had often mentioned that name, and directed the conversation to the only subject which interested her in life. Mr. Dickson was the most willing gossip in the world; and ignorant who his companion was,