That assertion, however, could hardly have
been true.
"Contented! And did you tell him that you returned his love?"
"He knew it without my telling him," said Lucy. It was so hard upon her
that she should be so interrogated while that letter was lying in the iron
box!
"Dear Lucy, this must not be," said Lady Fawn. "You are preparing for
yourself inexpressible misery."
"I have done nothing wrong, Lady Fawn."
"No, my dear--no. I do not say you have been wrong. But I think he is
wrong--so wrong! I call it wicked. I do indeed. For your own sake you
should endeavour to forget him."
"I will never forget him," said Lucy. "To think of him is everything to
me. He told me I was his Queen, and he shall be my King. I will be loyal
to him always." To poor Lady Fawn this was very dreadful. The girl
persisted in declaring her love for the man, and yet did not even pretend
to think that the man meant to marry her! And this, too, was Lucy Morris--
of whom Lady Fawn was accustomed to say to her intimate friends that she
had altogether ceased to look upon her as a governess. "Just one of
ourselves, Mrs. Winslow, and almost as dear as one of my own girls!" Thus,
in the warmth of her heart, she had described Lucy to a neighbour within
the last week.
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