She found her mother suffering from a more than ordinarily severe attack of "the miserables," as that lady was wont to term her low spirits. It was one of Mrs Walford's peculiarities to be depressed in spirits in exact proportion to the brightness and exhilarating character of the weather--but Lucy was completely proof against it all just now; the sight she had so lately looked upon had sent a soft, dainty flush into her cheeks, a light into her eyes, and a song to her lips, which her mother's "miserables" were wholly powerless to drive away, and she went about the house filling it with the melody of her low, sweet voice. Tea was over; Mrs Walford was made comfortable in her wide arm-chair, with a huge volume of sermons in her lap; and Lucy was trying to settle down with composure to the execution of some trifle in the way of needle-work, when the sharp click of the gate-latch was heard; there was a crunching of feet upon the gravel walk, the front door was unceremoniously opened, and Lieutenant Edward Walford walked in. "How _do_, aunt? Lucy, fair coz, I hope I see you in a state of perfect salubrity?" was his nonchalant greeting. Mrs Walford replied that "she was as well as could be expected,"--she did not say under what adverse circumstances--and Lucy requested him not to make himself ridiculous. It was too bad, she decided; here she had been looking forward to a delightful visit from George Leicester, probably a whole evening spent in his society, and now this pestilent cousin of hers must needs take it into his perverse head to walk over from Gosport--to be found later on by "dear George" making fierce love to her, the unfortunate Lucy;--which would be quite sufficient, she felt sure, to choke the said George off for at least another voyage. But that should never be, she was quite resolved; she could not prevent her cousin coming to the house, since her mother not only tolerated, but rather encouraged his visits; but she could, and she _would_, prevent his making love to her. With this determination she sat down, and, resorting to the best means she could think of for keeping her cousin at arm's length, produced her writing-materials and proceeded to discharge a few of her epistolary debts. Being thus unmistakably shown that his presence was unwelcome to the younger lady, he turned his attention to the elder one, talking to her about the war--the then all-important and most interesting topic of the moment--and giving her such scraps of news as had come to hand during the day, but it was perfectly evident from the uneasy glances he shot at his cousin and the nervous way in which he tugged at his long auburn moustache, that his occupation was not to his liking. At last, abandoning all further effort to accomplish the almost impossible task of amusing the old lady, he stepped to Lucy's side, and said in a low whisper--