Lucy felt it certainly would be delightful to hear them from his lips; and an air of tenderness succeeded to her confusion; she became conscious that to all lookers-on the appearance was that of a desperate flirtation. She felt her cheeks flush; she felt her eyes gleam with excited emotions of all kinds, and she was afraid to raise them from the ground. Lionel thought her eyelashes quite beautiful, as they almost swept her cheek, while they evidently only veiled the brightness beneath: he thought her confusion bewitching, and he was irresistibly attracted. The Duchess was surprised, and grieved, at the change which she feared had come over Lady Montreville during the last few weeks. Lucy caught her eyes upon her, and read in them an expression of pity, and of blame. She could not bear that look. Jumping up from her seat, she exclaimed, “I have something particular to say to the Duchess; I beg you ten thousand pardons;” and she left him in the middle of a tirade, upon the folly of those who, by groundless suspicions, justify what they dread. He remained _planté_, and bit his lips in pique and provocation. Lucy meantime passed her arm within the Duchess’s, and saying she must arrange with her some plan for seeing the Dulwich Gallery, she led her aside and sat down by her. “Do not look at me with that expression of countenance, my dear Duchess. I cannot bear it. I have enough to annoy me, and I cannot have you look so coldly and unkindly upon me.” “If my looks expressed coldness or unkindness, they belied me. I feel any thing but indifference, I can assure you.” “Let me come to you to-morrow morning, and promise to listen to a long history, in which, if I am to blame, I am more sinned against than sinning—indeed, till to-night, I thought myself a pattern of discretion; but I begin to think I may have been a little imprudent.” “Well, we cannot discuss that point just now,” answered the Duchess, smiling. “Come to-morrow morning, and I will not be at home to any one else.” Lucy kept close to the Duchess the rest of the evening, and did not give Mr. Delville any opportunity of speaking to her again. The next morning she breakfasted in her dressing-room, and at twelve o’clock she went to the Duchess, resolved to tell her her whole history, to ask her advice, and, if possible, to follow it. She did not feel as if there would be any great difficulty in giving up the attentions of others, but she felt she could not accomplish being the affectionate wife she once was, if that should be the thing required of her.