Lucy now not only promised herself, but did
actually realise, a great joy. He seemed to be to her all that her heart
desired. He was a man whose manner was naturally caressing and
demonstrative, and she was to him, of all women, the sweetest, the
dearest, the most perfect, and all his own. "But, Frank"--she had already
been taught to call him Frank when they were alone together--"what will
come of all this about Lizzie Eustace?"
"They will be married, of course."
"Do you think so? I am sure Lady Fawn doesn't think so."
"What Lady Fawn thinks on such a matter cannot be helped. When a man asks
a woman to marry him, and she accepts, the natural consequence is that
they will be married. Don't you think so?"
"I hope so, sometimes," said Lucy, with her two hands joined upon his arm,
and hanging to it with all her little weight.
"You really do hope it?" he said.
"Oh, I do; you know I do. Hope it! I should die if I didn't hope it."
"Then why shouldn't she?" He asked his question with a quick, sharp voice,
and then turned upon her for an answer.
"I don't know," she said, very softly, and still clinging to him. "I
sometimes think there is a difference in people.
Pages:
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294