nchard--will you go on
an errand for me as soon as breakfast is over?--Ah, that's very good of
you. Will you go and order--" Here she enumerated several commissions at
sundry shops, which would occupy Elizabeth's time for the next hour or
two, at least.

"And have you ever seen the Museum?"

Elizabeth-Jane had not.

"Then you should do so at once. You can finish the morning by going
there. It is an old house in a back street--I forget where--but you'll
find out--and there are crowds of interesting things--skeletons, teeth,
old pots and pans, ancient boots and shoes, birds' eggs--all charmingly
instructive. You'll be sure to stay till you get quite hungry."

Elizabeth hastily put on her things and departed. "I wonder why she
wants to get rid of me to-day!" she said sorrowfully as she went. That
her absence, rather than her services or instruction, was in request,
had been readily apparent to Elizabeth-Jane, simple as she seemed, and
difficult as it was to attribute a motive for the desire.

She had not been gone ten minutes when one of Lucetta's servants was
sent to Henchard's with a note. The contents were briefly:--

DEAR MICHAEL,--You will be standing in view of my house to-day for two
or three hours in the course of your business, so do please call and
see me. I am sadly disappointed that you have not come before, for can I
help anxiety about my own equivocal relation to you?--especially now
my aunt's fortune has brought me more prominently before society? Your
daughter's presence here may be the cause of your neglect; and I have
therefore sent her away for the morning. Say you come on business--I
shall be quite alone.

LUCETTA.

When the messenger returned her mistress gave directions that if a
gentleman called he was to be admitted at once, and sat down to await
results.

Sentimentally she did not much care to see him--his delays had wearied
her, but it was necessary; and with a sigh she arranged herself
picturesquely in the chair; first this way, then that; next so that the
light fell over her head. Next she flung herself on the couch in the
cyma-recta curve which so became her, and with her arm over her brow
looked towards the door. This, she decided, was the best position after
all, and thus she remained till a man's step was heard on the stairs.
Whereupon Lucetta, forgetting her curve (for Nature was too strong
for Art as yet), jumped up and ran and hid herself behind one of the
window-curtains