“I do not believe that,” cried Lucy, almost with vehemence. And then she paused and looked at him anxiously, and, with a crimson color gradually coming over her face, asked in a low tone, “Sir Thomas, do not be angry; are you _poor_?” He grew red, too, with surprise, but then laughed. “Well,” he said, “yes, for my position I certainly am. When a man has a great house to keep up, and a number of expenses, if he is not rich he must be poor.” “Ah! but I don’t think that could be what papa meant,” cried Lucy, with a profound sigh. “I can not tell, nor what you mean either, my little Lucy,” he said. “I feel very much like an old uncle to-day, so you must pardon the familiarity; you are so little, and so young, and I am so _flêtri_, with crows’-feet beyond counting. Lucy, I have come to bid you good-bye, I am going to Scotland, you know.” “Oh!” said Lucy, her countenance falling. “I hoped--we hoped--you were not going directly. So long as you were near, I felt that there was some one-- Must you really go, Sir Tom?” Neither of them noticed at the moment the sudden familiarity into which they had fallen, and Lucy’s dismay was so candid that it was all Sir Tom could do to keep from a caress, such as would have been very appropriate to his assumed character, but not very consistent with the partial guardianship he had been trusted with. “It is very sweet of you to be sorry,” he said, rising and walking to the window, where he stood looking out for a moment with back to her, “but I am afraid I must go, at all events, it will be better for me to go. If you want anything very urgently, write to me, or send me a telegram; but I don’t suppose you will have any very pressing necessities,” he said, turning round with a smile. “No,” said Lucy, very downcast; “oh; it is not that. I have not any necessities; I wish I had. It is just--it is only--one wants some one to speak to, some one to tell--” She was so disappointed that there came a little quiver into her lips and quaver in her tone. Had he been right? Was it really true that she was no more in love with him than he was with his old aunt? Sir Thomas was only human, and an amiable vanity was warm in him. A pleasant little thrill of surprise and gratitude went through his heart. Was it perhaps possible? But Lucy made haste to add, “You are the only person that I could tell something to--something that is on my mind. My guardians know, so it is not quite, quite a secret; but no one else knows; and when I go to them they always oppose me--at least they did everything they could against me the one time, and I thought if I could tell you, who are a gentleman, and have experience, it would be such a comfort, and perhaps you could guide me in doing what I have to do. Papa did not say I was to tell nobody. I am sure he would have liked me to have some one to stand by me, since you are so kind to me, Sir Tom.”