And, Lucia I must say it, whatever evil may come of it, now or in the future, is our fault." "Oh, mamma! mamma, don't say 'our'-- say 'your'-- if it is mine--for certainly it is not yours." "I will say your fault, then; I believe you feel it so." "But, mamma, really and truly, is it anybody's fault?
Don't people often love those who can't care for them in return ?" "Really and truly, quite honestly and frankly, Lucia, was that the case with you ?" Lucia's eyes fell.

She could not say yes.
"I will tell you," Mrs.Costello went on, "what I believe to be the truth, and you can set me right if I am wrong.

You knew that Maurice had always been fond of you--devoted to you, in a way that had come by use to seem natural; and it had never entered your mind to think either how much of your regard he deserved, or how much he really had.

I will not say anything about Percy; but I do believe," and she spoke very deliberately, laying her hand on Lucia's, "that since Maurice went away, you have been finding out that you had made a mistake, and that your heart had not been wrong nearly so much as your imagination." Lucia was still silent.

If she had spoken at all, it must have been to confess that her mother was right, and that was not easy to do.