To the world, Lord Mountfalcon was the thoroughly wicked man; his parasite simply ingeniously dissipated. Full many a man of God had thought it the easier task to reclaim the Hon. Peter.
Lucy received her noble friend by firelight that evening, and sat much in the shade. She offered to have the candles brought in. He begged her to allow the room to remain as it was. "I have something to say to you," he observed with a certain solemnity.
"Yes—to me?" said Lucy, quickly.
Lord Mountfalcon knew he had a great deal to say, but how to say it, and what it exactly was, he did not know.'
"You conceal it admirably," he began, "but you must be very lonely here—
I fear, unhappy."
"I should have been lonely, but for your kindness, my lord," said Lucy.
"I am not unhappy." Her face was in shade and could not belie her.
"Is there any help that one who would really be your friend might give you, Mrs. Feverel?"
"None indeed that I know of," Lucy replied. "Who can help us to pay for our sins?"
"At least you may permit me to endeavour to pay my debts, since you have helped me to wash out some of any sins."
"Ah, my lord!" said Lucy, not displeased. It is sweet for a woman to believe she has drawn the serpent's teeth.