k her head sadly.

"Maurice thought of a different return from any that would be possible
now. Possibly, if all had been as we wished--both he and I--I might
have gone over to a part of England so far from the place I left. Say no
more of it, dear," she added quickly, "let us make the best of what we
have, and try to forget what we have not."

She bent down and kissed her daughter as she spoke. But still these last
few sentences had furnished a little fresh bitterness for Lucia's
thoughts. Her mother's exile might have ended but for her.

Bourg-Cailloux was next day fully decided on for their new residence.
From the time of the decision Lucia began to be very busy in preparation
for their journey, and for leaving the place where she had been too
happy, and too miserable, not to have become attached to it. Claudine,
too, had to be left behind with some regret, but they hoped to see Paris
again the following year if all should be well. Early one morning they
started off once again, a somewhat forlorn pair of travellers, and at
three o'clock on a bright afternoon rattled over the rough pavements, on
their way to the Hotel des Bains at Bourg-Cailloux.

CHAPTER XIX.

Summer came very early that year, and the narrow streets of
Bourg-Cailloux were full of the glare and heat of the season. The
pavements of white stones, always rough and painful to the feet, were
burning hot in the middle of the day, and outside the walls, especially
towards the sea, the light coloured, sandy roads were more scorching
still. The Hotel des Bains, just waking up after its winter repose, had
proved but a comfortless dwelling. After two or three days, therefore,
Mrs. Costello had left it, and she and Lucia were now settled in a
lodging in the city itself. Their windows looked out on the "Place,"
where a brave sea-captain, the hero of Bourg-Cailloux, stood in effigy,
and still seemed to keep watch over the place he had once defended, and
where, twice a week, the market-women came in their long black cloaks
and dazzling caps, and brought heaps of fragrant flowers and early
fruit. In the very early morning, the shadow of a quaint old tower fell
transversely upon the pavement of the square, and reached almost to
their door; and in the evening Lucia grew fond of watching for the fire
which was nightly lighted on the same tower that it might be a guide to
sailors far out at sea. The town was quiet and dull--there was no
theatre, no concerts,