this subject so mysteriously accorded with his, it was less satisfactory to know that he had arrived at the same goal by some golden aerial route unknown to her. She had quoted, as she knew well, from what Maud had said to her, how that there was something secret about love—some isolating quality. She had extended the principle, it is true, assuming that at the first even lovers themselves wish to be alone, but her extension appeared to be perfectly sound.
The rest of his visit was all it should be. Lucia felt her way with unerring tact and instinct. By a sort of divination she gave him just that which a man naturally self-centred would look for when, for the time, at any rate, he has been hoisted out of himself by love. And, indeed, she did it all with sincerity. Ignorant as she was of passion, she wanted to get as near to it as she could, to understand what he felt, and talk the new language. She was gay and gentle with him, breaking out now and then into childish merriment at this adventure of theirs in having tea in the kitchen. That had been quite unpremeditated on Lucia's part, but it was brilliantly successful, and it was at his suggestion that they had their tea there, rather than carry up the apparatus to the drawing-room. For they found that not only the housemaid but the cook also had gone out; they were quite alone in the house. Then again, even in the middle of her laughter, she would grow tender and grave again in answer to his mood, and let a long silence speak for her. Soon it was necessary to go to the station, and wait till his train went.
"Horrid train!" she said gently, raising her eyes to his, as he stood at the carriage window. "Don't ask why: you know."
Lucia had what she called "a big think" all by herself that night. She had gone upstairs to bed rather early, with a view to "getting over" all fatigue and after-effects of her headache, which she said was quite unnecessary, at the urgent advice of Aunt Elizabeth; and in case of Maud's coming in to see if she was all right, had really gone to bed. But she had been very actively awake for the next hour or two, and when she came downstairs next morning, she had formed a resolution which she knew would require all her, courage to carry out. Sooner or later Maud must know of her engagement, and that being the case, it was much better that she should know at once. How she would take it, Lucia, though she knew her so well, could not guess;
