Happily the room was dark, so that the burning colour which rose to her cheeks was not perceptible; for the rest, she contrived to banish all consciousness from her voice, as she said quietly, "I have been writing to Mrs.Scott, to say I cannot leave you to-night." "I am sorry, dear; you would have enjoyed yourself, and there is no reason to be anxious about me." "I am very glad I was not gone.

Can you go to sleep ?" "Presently.

I think I dropped a letter--have you seen it ?" Lucia drew it from her pocket.

"It is here, I picked it up." Mrs.Costello held out her hand for it.

She looked at it for a moment, as if hesitating--then slipped it under her pillow.
Both remained silent for some time; Mrs.Costello, exhausted and pale as death, lay trying to gather strength for thought and endurance, longing, yet dreading, to share with her daughter the miserable burden which was pressing out her very life.