Part 88 (1/2)

She was quite sure that she heard the words. They came plainly to her ears, leaving on her brain their proper sense, but yet she could not move or make any sign that she had understood them. It seemed as though it would be ungenerous in her to take advantage of such conduct and to accept an offer made with so much self-sacrifice. She had not time at the first moment to think even of his happiness, let alone her own, but she thought only of the magnitude of the concession which had been made to her. When she had const.i.tuted Lady Lufton the arbiter of her destiny she had regarded the question of her love as decided against herself. She had found herself unable to endure the position of being Lady Lufton's daughter-in-law while Lady Lufton would be scorning her, and therefore she had given up the game. She had given up the game, sacrificing herself, and, as far as it might be a sacrifice, sacrificing him also. She had been resolute to stand to her word in this respect, but she had never allowed herself to think it possible that Lady Lufton should comply with the conditions which she, Lucy, had laid upon her. And yet such was the case, as she so plainly heard. ”And now I have come here, Lucy, to ask you to be his wife.”

How long they sat together silent, I cannot say; counted by minutes the time would not probably have amounted to many, but to each of them the duration seemed considerable. Lady Lufton, while she was speaking, had contrived to get hold of Lucy's hand, and she sat, still holding it, trying to look into Lucy's face,--which, however, she could hardly see, so much was it turned away. Neither, indeed, were Lady Lufton's eyes perfectly dry. No answer came to her question, and therefore, after a while, it was necessary that she should speak again.

”Must I go back to him, Lucy, and tell him that there is some other objection--something besides a stern old mother; some hindrance, perhaps, not so easily overcome?”

”No,” said Lucy, and it was all which at the moment she could say.

”What shall I tell him, then? Shall I say yes--simply yes?”

”Simply yes,” said Lucy.

”And as to the stern old mother who thought her only son too precious to be parted with at the first word--is nothing to be said to her?”

”Oh, Lady Lufton!”

”No forgiveness to be spoken, no sign of affection to be given?

Is she always to be regarded as stern and cross, vexatious and disagreeable?”

Lucy slowly turned round her head and looked up into her companion's face. Though she had as yet no voice to speak of affection she could fill her eyes with love, and in that way make to her future mother all the promises that were needed.

”Lucy, dearest Lucy, you must be very dear to me now.” And then they were in each other's arms, kissing each other.

Lady Lufton now desired her coachman to drive up and down for some little s.p.a.ce along the road while she completed her necessary conversation with Lucy. She wanted at first to carry her back to Framley that evening, promising to send her again to Mrs. Crawley on the following morning--”till some permanent arrangement could be made,” by which Lady Lufton intended the subst.i.tution of a regular nurse for her future daughter-in-law, seeing that Lucy Robarts was now invested in her eyes with attributes which made it unbecoming that she should sit in attendance at Mrs. Crawley's bedside. But Lucy would not go back to Framley on that evening; no, nor on the next morning. She would be so glad if f.a.n.n.y would come to her there, and then she would arrange about going home.

”But, Lucy, dear, what am I to say to Ludovic? Perhaps you would feel it awkward if he were to come to see you here.”

”Oh, yes, Lady Lufton; pray tell him not to do that.”

”And is that all that I am to tell him?”

”Tell him--tell him--He won't want you to tell him anything;--only I should like to be quiet for a day, Lady Lufton.”

”Well, dearest, you shall be quiet; the day after to-morrow then.--Mind we must not spare you any longer, because it will be right that you should be at home now. He would think it very hard if you were to be so near, and he was not to be allowed to look at you.

And there will be some one else who will want to see you. I shall want to have you very near to me, for I shall be wretched, Lucy, if I cannot teach you to love me.” In answer to which Lucy did find voice enough to make sundry promises.

And then she was put out of the carriage at the little wicket gate, and Lady Lufton was driven back to Framley. I wonder whether the servant when he held the door for Miss Robarts was conscious that he was waiting on his future mistress. I fancy that he was, for these sort of people always know everything, and the peculiar courtesy of his demeanour as he let down the carriage steps was very observable.

Lucy felt almost beside herself as she returned upstairs, not knowing what to do, or how to look, and with what words to speak. It behoved her to go at once to Mrs. Crawley's room, and yet she longed to be alone. She knew that she was quite unable either to conceal her thoughts or express them; nor did she wish at the present moment to talk to any one about her happiness,--seeing that she could not at the present moment talk to f.a.n.n.y Robarts. She went, however, without delay into Mrs. Crawley's room, and with that little eager way of speaking quickly which is so common with people who know that they are confused, said that she feared she had been a very long time away.

”And was it Lady Lufton?”

”Yes; it was Lady Lufton.”

”Why, Lucy; I did not know that you and her ladys.h.i.+p were such friends.”

”She had something particular she wanted to say,” said Lucy, avoiding the question, and avoiding also Mrs. Crawley's eyes; and then she sate down in her usual chair.

”It was nothing unpleasant, I hope.”

”No, nothing at all unpleasant; nothing of that kind.--Oh, Mrs.