"It would never do to have the poor girl about the house here, with no one to teach her any thing. Mark would not teach her Greek verbs, you know."
"I suppose not."
"Lucy, you are not attending to a word I say to you, and I don't think you have for the last hour. I don't believe you know what I am talking about."
"Oh yes, I do—Grace Crawley. I'll try and teach her if you like, only I don't know any thing myself."
"That's not what I mean at all, and you know I would not ask you to take such a task as that on yourself; but I do think you might talk it over with me."
"Might I? very well, I will. What is it? oh, Grace Crawley—you want to know who is to teach her the irregular Greek verbs. Oh dear, Fanny, my head does ache so: pray don't be angry with me." And then Lucy, throwing herself back on the sofa, put one hand up painfully to her forehead, and altogether gave up the battle.
Mrs. Robarts was by her side in a moment. "Dearest Lucy, what is it makes your head ache so often now? you used not to have those headaches."
"It's because I'm growing stupid—never mind. We will go on about poor Grace. It would not do to have a governess, would it?"
"I can see that you are not well, Lucy," said Mrs. Robarts, with a look of deep concern. "What is it, dearest? I can see that something is the matter."
"Something the matter! No, there's not—nothing worth talking of. Sometimes I think I'll go back to Devonshire and live there. I could stay with Blanche for a time, and then get a lodging in Exeter."
"Go back to Devonshire!" and Mrs. Robarts looked as though she thought her sister-in-law was going mad. "Why do you want to go away from us? This is to be your own, own home, always now."
"Is it? Then I am in a bad way. Oh dear, oh dear, what a fool I am! What an idiot I've been! Fanny, I don't think I can stay here; and I do so wish I'd never come. I do—I do—I do, though you look at me so horribly;" and, jumping up, she threw herself into her sister-in-law's arms and began kissing her violently. "Don't pretend to be wounded, for you know that I love you. You know that I could live with you all my life, and think you were perfect—as you are; but—"
