"Of course she is not to blame--according to you, Miss Verner! You were not to blame, were you, when you rejected--some one we knew of? Not the least doubt that you will take her part! Young Bitterworth wished to have proposed to you; you sent him away--as you send all--and refuse to tell me your motive! Very dutiful you are, Decima!" Decima turned away her pale face. She began to think Lucy would do better without her advocacy than with it. "I cannot allow it to end thus," resumed Lady Verner to Lucy. "You must reconsider your determination and recall Lord Garle." The words frightened Lucy. "I never can--I never can, Lady Verner!" she cried. "Please not to press it; it is of no use." "I must press it," replied Lady Verner. "I cannot allow you to throw away your future prospects in this childish manner. How should I answer for it to Colonel Tempest?" She swept out of the room as she concluded, and Lucy, in an uncontrollable fit of emotion, threw herself on the bosom of Decima, and sobbed there. Decima hushed her to her soothingly, stroking her hair from her forehead with a fond gesture. "What is it that has grieved you lately, Lucy?" she gently asked. "I am sure you have been grieving. I have watched you. Gay as you appear to have been, it is a false gaiety, seen only by fits and starts." Lucy moved her face from the view of Decima. "Oh, Decima! if I could but go back to papa!" was all she murmured. "If I could but go away, and be with papa!" This little episode had taken place the day that Lionel Verner and his wife returned. On the following morning Lady Verner renewed the contest with Lucy. And they were deep in it--at least my lady was, for Lucy's chief part was only a deprecatory silence, when Lionel arrived at Deerham Court, to pay that visit to his mother which you have heard of. "I insist upon it, Lucy, that you recall your unqualified denial," Lady Verner was saying. "If you will not accept Lord Garle immediately, at any rate take time for consideration. I will inform Lord Garle that you do it by my wish." "I cannot," replied Lucy in a firm, almost a vehement tone. "I--you must not be angry with me, Lady Verner--indeed, I beg your pardon for saying it--but I will not." "How dare you, Lucy--" Her ladyship stopped at the sudden opening of the door, turning angrily to see what caused the interruption. Her servant appeared. "Mr. Verner, my lady." How handsome he looked as he came forward! Tall, noble, commanding. Never more so; never so much so in Lucy's sight. Poor Lucy's heart was in her mouth, as the saying runs, and her pulses quickened to a pang. She did not know of his return. He bent to kiss his mother. He turned and shook hands with Lucy. He looked gay, animated, happy. A joyous bridegroom, beyond doubt. "So you have reached home, Lionel?" said Lady Verner. "At ten last night. How well you are looking, mother mine!"