"Yes, at any time; at least, excepting when I have any particular desire to be alone."
"And then you must lock the door," she said, smiling; "because you might not like to turn me out—so that shall be a sign that you wish to be alone."
"A very effectual sign indeed," said Mr. Villars, returning her smile, though he suspected that he should not be often obliged to resort to this defence, as it did not seem likely that she would be more attached to his study than his daughters were.
Mabel felt reluctant to leave the quiet repose of his society, but unwilling longer to absent herself, she went to the breakfast room, where, by this time, the whole party, excepting Hargrave, had assembled. She stopped to give her aunt a kiss, with a warmth, which might have told an intelligent observer, that the gratitude she felt for her protection had closed her eyes to distrust.
Caroline, who had been left mistress of the house in her mother's absence, had intended the situation and furniture of her bed-room, at once, to announce the fact, that if admitted to their circle, it must be in the rank of a dependent. But this attempt to humiliate her, had seemingly failed. Mabel appeared pale, subdued, and sorrow-stricken, but evidently possessing a mind superior to trifles; and though, when she took her seat apart from the table, her lip slightly trembled, and her color came and went, not a sigh escaped from the sad heart within.
Caroline, as she rose from breakfast, said that Hargrave had promised to practise some duets with her, and she must go and find him—Maria and Selina followed her—and Mrs. Villars went to her house-keeping, leaving Lucy behind.
There was a momentary and awkward silence—and then Lucy walked up to her, and sunk down upon the floor at her feet, crying—
"How can you ever look upon me again? Think of my laughing and amusing myself, when—"
A shudder finished the sentence.
And Mabel stooped to raise her head, whispering—