amma, for England?"

Mrs. Costello looked a little displeased at Lucia's surprise, "To be
sure," she said; "why, my dear child, you yourself thought England
would be the best place."

"I did _think_ so certainly, but I did not know I had said it."

"Well, can we be ready?"

"I can finish packing in an hour, but there is Madame Everaert to
arrange with."

"We must wait till Maurice comes back before doing that."

"I suppose we must; mamma, will you please go and lie down? Otherwise
you will not be able to go."

Mrs. Costello smiled. She felt able for any exertion to escape from her
enemy under Maurice's guidance. However, she did as her daughter wished,
and lay quietly waiting for his coming back.

Lucia heard his steps first, notwithstanding. She had her last trunk
just ready for locking, and went into the sitting-room to hear the
decision, with her hair a little disordered and a bright flush of
excitement and fatigue on her cheeks.

"Are we to go?" she said quickly.

"I think you should if you can," he answered her. "But can you be
ready?"

"By what time?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Everything is packed. Half an hour is all we really need now."

"Three hours to spare then. Everything is in our favour. It is not a bad
boat, and there is room for us on board."

"Have you taken berths then?" Mrs. Costello asked.

"Yes. And I will tell you why I did so without waiting to consult you. I
made some inquiries about this fellow Bailey, and found out that it
would most likely not suit him to go to England for some time to come."

"You inquired about him? Good heavens, what a risk!"

"You forget, dear Mrs. Costello, that I was meant for a lawyer. Don't be
afraid. He has no more thought of you than of the Khan of Tartary."

"If you only knew the comfort it is having you, Maurice; I was quite
helpless, quite upset by this last terror."

"But you had been ill, mamma," Lucia interposed. "It was no wonder you
were upset."

"That is not kind, Lucia," Maurice said, turning to her with a half
smile. "Mrs. Costello wishes to make me believe she depends on me, and
you try to take away the flattering impression."

"Oh! no; I did not mean that. Mamma knows--" but there she got into
confusion and stopped.

"Well," Mrs. Costello said, "we had better send for Madame Everaert, and
tell her we are going."

Madame came. She was desolated, but had nothing to say against the
departure of her lodgers, and, as Lucia had told Ma