nt
which suggested itself to her, that of placing her daughter at school,
might be practicable. She had, also, to add to her other perplexities, a
lurking conviction that, whenever Lucia did become aware of the plans
that had been made for her, those plans stood no small chance of being
entirely swept away; or, if carried out at all, that they would be
finally shaped and modified according to Lucia's own judgment and
affection for herself, of which two qualities she had for a long time
been having daily stronger proofs. But in whatever way she regarded the
future, it was full of difficulties and darkness; and she had no longer
either strength or courage to face these hopefully. The fainting fits
which had twice alarmed Lucia, and which she spoke of as trifling and
temporary indispositions, she herself knew perfectly well to be only one
of the symptoms of a firmly-rooted and increasing disease. She had taken
pains to satisfy herself of the truth; she knew that she might live for
years; and that, under ordinary circumstances, there was very little
fear of the immediate approach of death; but she knew, also, that every
hour of agitation or excitement hastened its steps; and how could she
hope to avoid either? The very effort to decide whether she ought to
part with her child, or to suffer her to remain and face the impending
revelations, was in itself an excitement in which life wasted fast.

But in this, as in so many human affairs, forethought was useless; and
the course of events, over which so many weary hours of calculation had
been spent, was already tending in a direction wholly unthought of and
unexpected. The first indication of this was the increasing illness of
Christian.

When Mr. Strafford returned to Moose Island, after his second stay at
Cacouna, he had begged Elton, the kind-hearted jailer, to send word to
Mrs. Costello if any decided change took place in the prisoner before
his return; and as she was known to be his friend and correspondent,
this attracted no remark, and was readily promised. A little more than a
fortnight before the expected trial, Elton himself came one day to the
Cottage, and asked for Mrs. Costello. She received him with an alarm
difficult to conceal, and, guessing his errand, asked at once if he had
a worse account of his prisoner to send to Mr. Strafford?

"Well, ma'am," he answered, "I don't know whether to call it a worse
account or not, considering all things; but he is certainl