giveness.'

'Nay, surely, dear child,' Lady Pembroke said. 'I would fain see you happy,
and content with the lot appointed you by God. There are manifold
temptations in this world for us all. We need grasp the hand of One who
will not fail to lead us safely in prosperity, and by the waters of comfort
in adversity. Seek Him, Lucy, with your whole heart, and I pray God to
bless you.'

Lucy kissed the hand held out to her with passionate fervour, and then went
back to do Lady Pembroke's bidding.

The expedition to Hampton Court was the topic of conversation amongst the
ladies of the household.

Several of the elder ones were to accompany Lady Pembroke in the earl's
barge; and Lucy heard the glowing accounts of the splendour of the
entertainment there, related in triumphant tones by those who were
fortunate enough to be selected to accompany the Countess.

They dilated on the theme with some satisfaction, as poor Lucy sat at her
lace-mending, too proud to show her mortification, and yet inwardly chafing
against the hard fate, which had prevented her from being one of the party.

'Better never to have tasted the sweets of a bright, gay life, than be so
suddenly snatched from it,' she thought. But her better self asserted
itself as she thought of Mary's distress in the loss of Ambrose.

For Lucy had a better self, and she was not without higher aims. She
possessed natural gifts which, though perhaps inferior to her sister's,
only wanted cultivation. She eagerly devoured any books that came in her
way; and she had a keen perception of all that was beautiful--perhaps it is
safer to say, all that was grand and imposing.

She loved to dream of herself as the lady of some fine house, surrounded by
all that wealth and rank could give.

The ideal knight who was to endow her with this splendour was partly ideal,
but he took the form of Mr Sidney. She dare scarcely acknowledge this to
herself. He was set on high, so far above her, it is true; yet he was never
too high above her to forget her presence. His smile was a guerdon which
she craved to win; the glance of his grave, beautiful eyes thrilled through
her; the sound of his voice was music, stirring within her an answering
chord, the echo of which was ever sweet and sweeter every time it was
awakened.

It was, she felt sure, by his kind offices she had been placed in Lady
Pembroke's household. And did he not seem sad--sorry for her--when Mistress
Crawley pursued her in t