Some of these glanced at her inquiringly, with "nods and becks and wreathed smiles," but she paid no heed to any of them.

Her mother came eagerly up to her, anxiety purpling every vein of her mottled countenance, but no word did she utter, till, having put on their cloaks, the two waited together on the steps of the mansion, with flunkeys on either side, for the hired brougham to bowl up in as _un_-hired a style as was possible at the price of one guinea for the night's outing.
"Where is Mr.Helmsley ?" then asked Mrs.Sorrel.
"In his own room, I believe," replied Lucy, frigidly.
"Isn't he coming to see you into the carriage and say good-night ?" "Why should he ?" demanded the girl, peremptorily.
Mrs.Sorrel became visibly agitated.

She glanced at the impassive flunkeys nervously.
"O my dear!" she whimpered softly, "what's the matter?
Has anything happened ?" At that moment the expected vehicle lumbered up with a very creditable clatter of well-assumed importance.

The flunkeys relaxed their formal attitudes and hastened to assist both mother and daughter into its somewhat stuffy recess.

Another moment and they were driven off, Lucy looking out of the window at the numerous lights which twinkled from every story of the stately building they had just left, till the last bright point of luminance had vanished.