Footsteps on the gravel below: _his_ footsteps: and she went to the window to glance out. Yes, he was going straight down the gravel walk, and through the large gates. Going where? Her heart beat a little quicker as the question crept in. To the Maze? The query was always suggesting itself now. He turned that way--and that was all she could tell, for the trees hid the road from her view. He might be going to his agent's; he might be going to some part or other of his estate; but to Lucy's jealous mind the probability seemed perfectly clear that his destination was that shut-in house, which she had already begun to hate so much. And yet--she believed that he did not go in by day-time. Lucy wondered whether Fair Rosamund, who had disturbed the peace of her queen, was half as fair as this Rosamund, now turning her own poor heart to sickness. More footsteps on the gravel: merry tongues, light laughter. Lucy looked out again. Some of the young ladies from the village had called for Theresa, and they were now going on to St. Jerome's. For laughter such as that, for the real lightness of heart that must be its inevitable accompaniment, Lucy thought she would have bartered a portion of her remaining life. Aglaé came in, her hands and arms full of clouds of tulle and blue ribbon. "Look here, my lady--these English modistes have no taste at all. They can't judge. They send this heavy satin ribbon, saying it is the fashion, and they put it in every part of the beautiful light robe, so that you cannot tell which is robe, the tulle, or the ribbon. My lady is not going to wear that, say I; an English modiste might wear it, but my young lady never. So I take the ribbons off." Lucy looked round listlessly. What did all these adornments matter to her? Karl never seemed to see now what she was dressed in: and if he had seen, he would not have cared. "But what is it you are asking me, Aglaé?" "I would ask my lady to let me put just a quarter of as much ribbon on: and silk ribbon, not satin. I have some silk in the house, and this satin will come in for a heavier robe." "Do whatever you like, Aglaé." "That's well," said Aglaé. "But I wish my lady would not show herself quite so indifferent," added the woman to herself as she withdrew. "She could not care less if she were the old grandmother."