"Did you? But you had promised to come if ever we were in trouble."

"Yes. And I meant to keep my word. But I fancied you would never send for me."

"You see," Lucia said, trying to speak lightly, "that we had no other friend to send for."

"Is that so? Was that the only reason?"

"Maurice!"

"Tell me something, Lucia. Did you mean the last sentence of your note?"

"What was it?"

"You said you were unhappy."

"Oh! yes, I was. _So_ unhappy--I was thinking of it just now."

"And at present? Are you unhappy still?"

"You know I am not."

"I have been miserable, too, lately. Horribly miserable. I was ready to do I can't tell you what absurdities. Until your note came."

He stopped a moment, but she had nothing to say.

"It is a great comfort to have got so far," he went on, "but I suppose one is never satisfied. Now that I am not quite miserable, I should like to be quite happy."

Lucia could not help laughing, though she did so a little nervously.

"Don't be unreasonable," she said.

"But I am. I must needs put it to the touch again. Lucia, you know what I want to say; can't you forget the past, and come home to Hunsdon and be my wife?"

They stood still side by side, in the starry darkness and neither of them knew very well for a few minutes what they said. Only Maurice understood that the object of his life was gained; and Lucia felt that from henceforth, for ever, she would never be perverse, or passionate, or wilful again, for Maurice had forgiven her, and loved her still.

They never noticed that the boat was delayed beyond its time, and that other passengers chafed at the delay. They stayed on deck in the starlight, and said little to each other, but they both felt that a new life had begun--a life which seemed to be grafted on the old one before their troubles, and to have nothing to do with this last year. When Maurice was about to say good-night at the cabin door, he made the first allusion to what had brought them together.

"I shall pension Bailey," he said. "His last good deed blots out all his misdoings."

"What good deed?"

"Frightening you."

"He did not frighten me."

"Frightening Mrs. Costello then. It comes to the same thing in the end.

But why did not you send for your cousin, Mr. Wynter?"

"Ask mamma."

"I have something more interesting to ask her."

Mrs. Costello knew tolerably well, when Lucia kissed her that night, what had happened. She said nothing audibly, but in her heart there was a _Nunc Dimittis_ sung thankfully; and in spite of the sea, she fell asleep over it. The night was as calm as it could be, and Maurice, who had no inclination for sleep or for the presence of the crowd below, spent most of it on deck. Towards morning he went down; but at seven o'clock, when Lucia peeped out, he was up again and waiting for her. She only gave him a little nod and smile, however, and then retreated, but presently came back with her mother.

They got chairs and sat watching the coast, which was quickly coming nearer, and the vessels which they passed lying out in the still waters.

"We shall be in in two hours," Maurice said, "though we were late starting. The captain says he has not had such a good run this year."

"For which I am very thankful," Mrs. Costello answered.

"What a mercy it is to have got away so easily; it was well we sent to you, Maurice."

"Very well; the best thing that ever was done. Lucia and I agreed as to that last night."

Lucia pouted the very least in the world, and her mother smiled.

"It seems to me you took a long while to settle the question. I thought she was never coming."

"Why, mamma? I came as soon as the boat started."

"We have settled our differences," Maurice said, leaning down to speak quietly to Mrs. Costello. "Do you give us leave to make our own arrangements for the future?"

"I think you are pretty sure of my leave."

"Then we all go straight on to Hunsdon together?"

"Are those your arrangements?"

"Not mine, certainly," Lucia interposed. "I thought we were to stay in London."

"But why?"

"Don't you see," Mrs. Costello asked, "that any little compact you two children may have made has nothing to do with the necessity of my finding a house for myself and my daughter--as long as she is only my daughter."

Maurice had to give way a second time.

"Very well then," he said. "At all events you can't forbid me to stay in London, too."

"But I certainly shall. You may stay and see us settled, but after that you are to go home and attend to your own affairs."

They reached London by noon, and before night they found, and took possession of, a lodging which Mrs. Costello said to herself would suit them very well until Lucia should be married; after which, of course, she would want to settle near Hunsdon. Maurice spent the evening with them, but was only allowed to do so on condition of leaving London for home next morning.

As soon as they were at all settled, Mrs. Costello wrote to her cousin.

She told him that she had had urgent reason for quitting France suddenly; that other causes had weighed with her in deciding to return to England, and that she was anxious to see and consult with him. She begged him, therefore, to come up to town and to bring one at least of his daughters with him on a visit to Lucia.

When the letter had been sent off, she said to her daughter, "Suppose that we are penniless in consequence of our flight? What is to done then?"

"Surely that cannot be?"