Meanwhile, Lucy continued her journey. At first the natural pain of parting from Aston led her to a train of sorrowful reflection. Perhaps she too remembered how different the home she had left had been when she entered it; but she had also to remember many mortifying things besides. Her easy conquest, as she imagined, had ended in total failure. If she had unintentionally brought evil on Mabel, she had also brought good, in the admiration of the fascinating Clair. Her recollections soon became too painful to be encouraged, and she took the ready source of comfort open to those who do not care to probe the conscience, and tried not to think at all. It was easiest and most agreeable, but she had to arm herself for the reception she would probably meet at home. How could she say she had entirely failed; and what reason could she give for believing that Clair was in earnest; she had not the heart to blame him. "If Mabel had not been there," she thought, "he never would have changed, but I will not think any harm of her, I _suppose_ she could not help it." "Once in Bath, this country dream will be over, and I shall have the pleasure of preparing for the fancy ball--and then, the arrival of Colonel Hargrave, and possibly--if he is not attracted by Caroline's majestic style of beauty, who knows but he may find other objects of admiration--" and she glanced down upon her pretty little foot, with an air of condescending affection, as it rested on the shawl which lay beneath it. Then came the remembrance that Mabel had lent her that shawl, and had herself wrapped it round her with that attention to the comfort of others, which was so peculiar to her, and she lent back and wept bitterly for some miles. At Cheltenham, however, she was joined by her promised fellow traveller, also returning to Bath for the season. Mrs. Richardson, for this was her name, was a good-tempered, stout little lady, who possessed a great fondness for young people, particularly for those who, either pretty, witty, or engaging, were sure to be popular in society. She formed a very useful chaperone, in case of necessity, never being unwilling to join any party of pleasure, from the most crowded rout, to the dullest and quietest card party. Lucy had not been slow in finding out this useful virtue, and, Mrs. Richardson being a great admirer of hers, they usually got on very well together. But now, the badinage she had to endure, on the many conquests she must have made, during her country visit, amongst rich squires, grated sadly on her ears; while her attempts to divert the conversation, only renewed her companion's desire to obtain an account of all she had been doing and seeing.