One day Maurice rode over to Dighton, and told his cousin he was come to say good-bye.

She was not, of course, surprised to hear that he was really going, but she could not help expressing her wonder at the lightness with which he spoke of a journey of so many thousand miles.
"You talk of going to Canada," she said, "just as I should talk of going to Paris--as if it were an affair of a few hours." "If it were six times as far," he answered, "it would make no difference to me, except that I should be more impatient to start; and yet most likely when I get there I shall find my journey useless." Somehow or other there had come to be a tolerably clear understanding, on Lady Dighton's part, of the state of affairs between Maurice and Lucia--she knew that Maurice was intent upon finding his old playfellow, and winning her if possible at once.

She naturally took the part of her new favourite; and believed that if Lucia were really what he described her, she would easily be persuaded to come to Hunsdon as its mistress; for, of course, she knew of no other barrier between the young people than that of Maurice's newly acquired importance.

She thought Mrs.
Costello had acted in a prudent and dignified manner in wishing to separate them; but she also thought, in rather a contradictory fashion, that since Maurice was intent upon the marriage, he ought to have his own way.

So she was quite disposed to encourage him with auguries of success.
"They are not likely to be in any hurry to begin a sea-voyage such weather as this," she said, shivering.