“He must speak now,” she thought. But the silence continued unbroken, and she determined not to be the first to break it. She sat, imagining in what words he would open the subject, till the first sound of his voice made her almost start from her seat. He asked her to put the shade over the candles a little lower down. He had to repeat the request, before she could collect her thoughts so as to comply with it. “He is ashamed I should see his countenance, when he speaks of this disgraceful connexion,” she thought; and she remained again in expectation. Another silence succeeded. For very awkwardness Lucy wished to say something, but she could think of nothing that did not either lead away from the subject uppermost in both their minds, or else indirectly lead to it. Every sentence she planned, sounded either too formal, or too tender. At length she fell back upon the never-failing resource of the bankrupt in conversation; and after ten minutes’ reflection and consideration, she promulgated “It is very hot to-night!” He agreed, and begged her to look at Moore’s Almanack, to see what weather was there predicted. He continued to say a vast deal upon the subject, to which she replied in absent monosyllables. There was no more to be extracted from this topic. Lord Montreville had foretold drought, and rain, wind and heat, storm and sunshine, and Lucy had assented to the probability of each in succession, when another silence ensued. She began to feel angry at being treated with such coldness, and such contempt, that he did not even deem any apology or explanation due to her; as if he imagined her only fit to be a nurse, only capable of talking about the weather. Her heart, which had been yearning towards the father of her child, became suddenly chilled and shut up. Her wrongs rose before her eyes in fearful array against him; and if he had then entered upon the subject, he would have found her in a very different frame of mind from that in which she had been at the commencement of their tête-à-tête. She made a variety of the most insipid common-place remarks, in the most dry and indifferent tone of voice. Never was dialogue kept up between two strangers in a more constrained tone, than between this couple, who really entertained a great affection for each other, and on the evening of the day on which their first child had first walked alone.