already tried them too much. Now, for the
last time of asking, have you got the abominable courage in you to tell
her the truth?"

He had found my limit at last. I was obliged to own (heartily as I
disliked doing it) that there was, for the present, no choice left but
mercifully to conceal the truth. Having gone this length I next attempted
to consult him as to the safest manner in which I could account to
Lucilla for Oscar's absence. He refused (as a man) to recognize the
slightest necessity for giving me (as a woman) any advice on a question
of evasions and excuses. "I have not lived all my years in the world,
without learning something," he said. "When it comes to walking upon
eggshells and telling fips, the womens have nothing to learn from the
mens.--Will you take a little stroll-walk with me in the garden? I have
one odder thing to say to you: and I am hungry and thirsty both
togedder--for This."

He produced "This," in the form of his pipe. We left the room at once for
our stroll in the garden.

Having solaced himself with his first mouthful of tobacco-smoke, he
startled me by announcing that he meant to remove Lucilla forthwith from
Dimchurch to the sea-side. In doing this, he was actuated by two
motives--first, the medical motive of strengthening her constitution:
second, the personal motive of preserving her from making painful
discoveries by placing her out of reach of the gossip of the rectory and
the village. Grosse had the lowest opinion of Mr. Finch and his
household. His dislike and distrust of the rector, in particular, knew no
bounds: he characterized the Pope of Dimchurch as an Ape with a long
tongue, and a man-and-monkey capacity for doing mischief. Ramsgate was
the watering-place which he had fixed on. It was at a safe distance from
Dimchurch; and it was near enough to London to enable him to visit
Lucilla frequently. The one thing needed was my co-operation in the new
plan. If I was at liberty to take charge of Lucilla, he would speak to
the Ape with the long tongue; and we might start for Ramsgate before the
end of the week.

Was there anything to prevent me from carrying out the arrangement
proposed?

There was nothing to prevent me. My one other anxiety apart from
Lucilla--anxiety about good Papa--had now, for some time, been happily
set at rest. Letter after letter from my sisters in France, brought me
always the same cheering news. My evergreen parent had at last discovered
that he was