But all was still and seemingly deserted; not a sign of her presence was visible, though he strained his eyes to the last moment.

Yet she was watching also.

Wrapped in a dark cloak, she stood among the trees, where she knew the shadows would conceal her, and took that last look which she had not courage to forbid herself.

She put her arm round the slender trunk of an acacia tree, and, leaning forward, followed the receding boat, with a sickening eagerness, till it had completely disappeared; then her head sank for a moment against the tree, with one bitter yet suppressed cry.

Sorrow was so new to her yet.
Little had been said between the mother and daughter in this crisis of Lucia's life.