ffections. Under these circumstances, Lucy quietly established
herself in Mrs Damerel's cottage.

At first she found it a hard matter to gain sufficient money for her
labour to recompense the dame for her board and lodging, which she
insisted upon doing every time she was paid by her employers. Still
she wrought on, although her savings were small, and at the end of
several months they bore a hopeless proportion to the large sum which
was required. But time seemed a small object to her: she looked
forward to the end, and in it she saw such a world of reward and
happiness, that no toil would be too much to arrive at it. She had
answered Luke's letter with her own hand, assuring him of her
unshaken attachment, in spite of all that had happened; but
unfortunately he had sailed for India, and it was sent thither after
him, in obedience to the vague 'elsewhere' which had been added to
the superscription according to his wish.

Slow progress was not the only trouble Lucy had to contend with.
Modbury's attentions pained her as much as Luke's absence; the more
so because they were so full of consideration for her welfare. She
knew she never could return his kindness, and felt that she did not
deserve it. She often told Dame Damerel that a show of hostility from
the worthy farmer would not have pained her so much as his
unremitting attentions.

Then, when the neighbours came in to gossip, they sometimes spoke
against Luke. They would tell her that a man who would suspect her on
such slight grounds, and act as he did, could never be true to her;
that he would see some other whom he would prefer, and some day send
home word that he was married; neither was it likely that he would
ever come home alive from the Indies. These poisoned arrows, which
were meant as comfort, glanced harmlessly from Lucy, who was
invulnerably shielded by trusting love and hope. She would answer:
'very likely,' or 'it may be,' or 'there is no knowing what may
happen in this world of trouble,' and still rattle about her
lace-pegs over the pillow on which it was made with the quickness of
magic. Amongst her visitors, however, there were two who invariably
offered her better consolation; these were Larkin and his sister. Tom
'stuck up,' as he expressed it, for his friend Luke, and always put
the blame of the enlistment on the wiles and arts of the
recruiting-sergeant, who regularly entrapped him into the deed. Many
a happy winter evening was spent in that