“But I will talk to him; he’s coming back this week. And this good news about the Mill will soften him. And I’ll talk to him about Philip. Tom’s always very compliant to me; I don’t think he’s so obstinate.” “But I must go,” said Maggie, in a distressed voice. “I must leave some time to pack. Don’t press me to stay, dear Lucy.” Lucy was silent for two or three minutes, looking away and ruminating. At length she knelt down by her cousin, and looking up in her face with anxious seriousness, said,— “Maggie, is it that you don’t love Philip well enough to marry him? Tell me—trust me.” Maggie held Lucy’s hands tightly in silence a little while. Her own hands were quite cold. But when she spoke, her voice was quite clear and distinct. “Yes, Lucy, I would choose to marry him. I think it would be the best and highest lot for me,—to make his life happy. He loved me first. No one else could be quite what he is to me. But I can’t divide myself from my brother for life. I must go away, and wait. Pray don’t speak to me again about it.” Lucy obeyed in pain and wonder. The next word she said was,— “Well, dear Maggie, at least you will go to the dance at Park House to-morrow, and have some music and brightness, before you go to pay these dull dutiful visits. Ah! here come aunty and the tea.” Chapter X. The Spell Seems Broken The suite of rooms opening into each other at Park House looked duly brilliant with lights and flowers and the personal splendors of sixteen couples, with attendant parents and guardians. The focus of brilliancy was the long drawing-room, where the dancing went forward, under the inspiration of the grand piano; the library, into which it opened at one end, had the more sober illumination of maturity, with caps and cards; and at the other end the pretty sitting-room, with a conservatory attached, was left as an occasional cool retreat. Lucy, who had laid aside her black for the first time, and had her pretty slimness set off by an abundant dress of white crape, was the acknowledged queen of the occasion; for this was one of the Miss Guests’ thoroughly condescending parties, including no member of any aristocracy higher than that of St Ogg’s, and stretching to the extreme limits of commercial and professional gentility.