“I can’t tell,” she said. “I should--and yet how could I? I am so different. And by and by I should have to go away again. How strange it is that in such a little time, that has been nothing to them, so much should have happened to me.” There passed rapidly through Lucy’s mind as she spoke a review of the circumstances and people who had furnished her with so many varied experiences. First and greatest stood the Randolphs, and that other world of life in London, which she knew was waiting for her in the shut-up rooms, all shutters and brown-holland, in Lady Randolph’s house. She seemed to see these rooms, closed and dim, with rays of light coming in through the crevices, and everything covered up, in which her life was awaiting her. The other scenes flitted across her mind like shadows, the episode of the Russells, the facts of her present existence--all shadows; but Grosvenor Street was real, though all the shutters were shut. While this was passing through her mind, the others were giving her credit for visions very different. They glanced at each other again, and Mrs. Stone took her nephew’s arm and gave it a significant pressure. She was too much elated to be capable of much talk. “We must see Lucy home,” she said. “It is getting late, and dear little Jock ought to be in bed. I am always glad to see my girls come back; but there is one thing I shall grudge, these evening strolls; they have been very sweet.” “Then you have made up your mind, notwithstanding Miss Trevor’s intercession (for which I thank her on my knees), to send me away?” “I can not send you away while you are necessary to the comfort of--these dear children,” Mrs. Stone said. There was a little break of emotion in her voice, and Lucy listened with some surprise. She was scarcely aware that she had interceded, yet in reality she was very glad that Mr. St. Clair should stay. She observed that he held her hand a moment longer than was necessary, as he bade her good-night, but she did not attach any meaning to this. It was an accident; she was too greatly indifferent to notice it at all.