Mr. Sargent knew something of Mr. Wither, who had very "good connections," and was indeed a favorite in several professional circles; and from him he had learned all about Lucy's relations, without even alluding to Lucy herself, and that her uncle and whole family had sailed in the _Ningpo_. Anxious to do what he could for her, and fearful lest, in their unprotected condition, some advantage should be taken of the two women, he had made haste to offer his services to Lucy, not without a vague feeling that he ran great risk of putting himself in the false position of a fortune-hunter by doing so, and heartily abusing himself for not having made more definite advances before there was any danger of her becoming an heiress; for although a fortune was a most desirable thing in Mr. Sargent's position, especially if he wished to marry, he was above marrying for money alone, and, in the case of Lucy, with whom he had fallen in love--just within his depth, it must be confessed--while she was as poor as himself, he was especially jealous of being unjustly supposed to be in pursuit of her prospects. Possibly the consciousness of what a help the fortune would be to him made him even more sensitive than he would otherwise have been. Still he would not omit the opportunity of being useful to the girl, trusting that his honesty would, despite of appearances, manifest itself sufficiently to be believed in by so honest a nature as Lucy Burton. "Have you heard the sad news?" he said, as soon as they were in the garden. "No," answered Lucy, without much concern; for she did not expect to hear anything about Thomas. "I thought not. It is very sad. The _Ningpo_ is lost." Lucy was perplexed. She knew the name of her uncle's vessel; but for a moment she did not associate the thing. In a moment, however, something of the horror of the fact reached her. She did not cry, for her affections had no great part in anyone on board of the vessel, but she turned very pale. And not a thought of the possible interest she might have in the matter crossed her mind. She had never associated good to herself with her uncle or any of his family. "How dreadful!" she murmured. "My poor cousins! What they must all have gone through! Are they come home?" "They are gone home," said Mr. Sargent, significantly. "There can be but little doubt of that, I fear." "You don't mean they're drowned?" she said, turning her white face on him, and opening her eyes wide. "It is not absolutely certain; but there can be little doubt about it." He did not show her the paragraph in the _Times_, though the paper was in his pocket: the particulars were too dreadful. "Are there any other relations but your grandmother and yourself?" he asked, for Lucy remained silent. "I don't know of any," she answered. "Then you must come in for the property."