"I was unwilling to come this afternoon," observed Lucy, as she returned and sat down, "for papa does not seem so well. I fear he may have taken cold to-day; but he got to his books and writing after dinner, as usual." "Does he think of bringing out a new book?" asked Mrs. Arkell; and Lucy did not detect the irony of the question. "Not yet. He is about half through one. Is there any meeting to-day, do you know, Mrs. Arkell?" she resumed. "I met several gentlemen hurrying up the street as I came along." "I thought everybody knew of it," replied Mrs. Arkell. "A meeting of the manufacturers was convened at the Guildhall for this afternoon. Mr. Arkell and Travice have gone to it." "Their meetings seem to bring them no redress," returned Lucy, sadly. "The English manufacturers have no chance against the French now." "I don't know what is to become of us," ejaculated Mrs. Arkell. "Charlotte, thank goodness, will soon be married and away; but there's Sophy! Travice will have enough to live upon, without business." "Will he?" exclaimed Lucy, looking brightly up. "I am so glad to hear it! I thought your property had diminished until it was but small." "Our property is diminishing daily," replied Mrs. Arkell. "Which makes it the more necessary that Travice should secure himself by his marriage." Lucy did not answer; but her heart throbbed violently, and the faint colour on her cheek forsook it. Mrs. Arkell, without looking towards her, rose to poke the fire, and continued talking as she leaned over the grate, with her back to Lucy. "It is intended that Travice shall marry Barbara Fauntleroy." The sense of the words was very decided, carrying painful conviction to Lucy's startled ear. She could not have answered, had her life depended on it. "Lucy, my dear," proceeded Mrs. Arkell, speaking with unwonted affection, and looking Lucy full in the face, "I am speaking to you in entire confidence, and I desire you will respect it as such. Do not drop a hint to Travice or the girls; they would not like my speaking of it." Lucy sat quiet; and Mrs. Arkell quite devoured the pale face with her eyes. "At first he did not care much for Barbara; and in truth he does not care for her now, as one we intend to marry ought to be cared for. But that will all come in time. Travice, like many other young men, may have indulged in a little carved-out romance of his own--I don't know that he did, but he _may_--and he has the good sense to see that his romance must yield to reality." "Yes!" ejaculated Lucy, feeling that she was expected to say something in answer. "There is our property dwindling down to little; there's the business dwindling down to nothing; and suppose Travice took it into his head to many a portionless girl, what prospect would there be before him? Why, nothing but poverty and self-reproach; nothing but misery. And in time he would hate her for having brought him to it." "True! true!" murmured Lucy.