happy with her cousins." If Lucy's happiness
were made to depend on her cousins, thought Ayala, it would not be
well assured. "And my sister Emmeline is always good-natured."

"Aunt Emmeline is very good, only--"

"Only what?"

"I don't know. But it is such a sudden change, Uncle Reginald."

"Yes, it is a very great change, my dear. They are very rich and we
are poor enough. I should hardly have consented to this, for your
sake, but that there are reasons which will make it better for you
both."

"As to that," said Ayala, stoutly, "I had to come away. I didn't
suit."

"You shall suit us, my dear."

"I hope so. I will try. I know more now than I did then. I thought I
was to be Augusta's equal."

"We shall all be equal here."

"People ought to be equal, I think,--except old people and young
people. I will do whatever you and my aunt tell me. There are no
young people here, so there won't be any trouble of that kind."

"There will be no other young person, certainly. You shall go
upstairs now and see your aunt."

Then there was the interview upstairs, which consisted chiefly in
promises and kisses, and Ayala was left alone to unpack her boxes and
prepare for dinner. Before she began her operations she sat still for
a few moments, and with an effort collected her energies and made her
resolution. She had said to Lucy in her passion that she would that
she were dead. That that should have been wicked was not matter of
much concern to her. But she acknowledged to herself that it had been
weak and foolish. There was her life before her, and she would still
endeavour to be happy though there had been so much to distress her.
She had flung away wealth. She was determined to fling it away still
when it should present itself to her in the shape of her cousin Tom.
But she had her dreams,--her day-dreams,--those castles in the air
which it had been the delight of her life to construct, and in the
building of which her hours had never run heavy with her. Isadore
Hamel would, of course, come again, and would, of course, marry Lucy,
and then there would be a home for her after her own heart. With
Isadore as her brother, and her own own Lucy close to her, she would
not feel the want of riches and of luxury. If there were only some
intellectual charm in her life, some touch of art, some devotion
to things beautiful, then she could do without gold and silver and
costly raiment. Of course, Isadore would come; and then--then