equence. I will--"

"Pardon me, Lady Houstoun, it is of the utmost consequence to me. I
cannot again live a dependent on your bounty."

"What can you do? Has your education been such that you can take the
situation of governess?"

"Mr. Merton was a highly educated man, and Mrs. Merton an accomplished
woman--it was their pleasure to teach me, and mine to learn from them."

"Accomplished! There stands a harp which has just been tuned by a master
for a little concert we are to have this evening. Can you play on it?"

Lucy drew the instrument to her and played an overture correctly, yet
with less spirit than she would have done had her fingers trembled less.

"Can you sing?"

Elevated above all apprehension by the indignant pride which this cold
and haughty questioning aroused, Lucy changed the music of the overture
for a touching air, and, sang, with a rich, full voice, a single stanza
of an Italian song.

"Italian! Do you understand it?"

"I have read it with Mr. Merton."

"This is fortunate. I have been for weeks in search of a governess for a
friend residing in the country. I will order the carriage and take you
there instantly--or stay--return home and put up your clothes. I will
send a coach for you."

Again Lucy had vanished from Edward Houstoun's world, nor could his most
munificent bribes, nor most active cross-examination win any other
information from Mrs. Blakely's household, than that "Miss Lucy went
away in a carriage"--a carriage whose description presented a _fac
simile_ to every hackney-coach. Spite of all her precautions, he
suspected his mother; to his consciousness of her want of sympathy with
his pursuits, was therefore added a deep sense of injury, and his heart
grew sterner, his manner colder and more reserved than ever. Two years
more were passed in his studies, and a third in the long delays, the
fruitless efforts which mark the entrance on any career of profitable
exertion. During all this time, Lady Houstoun was studious to bring
around him the loveliest daughters of affluence and rank. Graceful forms
flitted through her halls, and the music of sweet voices and the gay
laughter of innocent and happy hearts were heard within her rooms, but
by all their attractions Edward Houstoun was unmoved. Courteous and
bland to all, he never lingered by the side of one--no quick flush, no
flashing beam told that even for a passing moment his heart was again
awake. Could it be that from all this arr