"A great pity, indeed," said Clair; "I know few girls who would be more attractive than Lucy Villars, if she had but the one necessary appendage—sterling principle."
"Perhaps, it may be so," said Hargrave, "and if she had, besides, a greater, and a less reliance, on her own powers. But we have had excitement enough for one morning in settling her affairs. I am going into the country, will you walk with me?"
"Willingly," said Clare, taking his hat and stick.
And the two young men sallied forth together for a long country excursion.
CHAPTER XVII.
Oh, pass not, pass not, heedless by,
Perhaps thou canst redeem
The breaking heart from misery,
Go, share thy lot with him.
When Lucy reached her own room, she found Mabel waiting there—but without taking any notice of her, she sunk down upon her bed, and remained gloomily silent.
Mabel offered no consolation, for there is a dignity in grief which calls for something like respect; she, therefore, busied herself in getting the chamber restored to something like order, that Lucy might not be disturbed; and as soon as she heard her aunt stirring, she went to her, though most reluctantly, to communicate as much as she knew of the morning's adventure. As she anticipated, she had to bear the brunt of her wrath, for Mrs. Villars, with the unreasonable temper of disappointment, was almost ready to blame her for the whole occurrence. Mabel, however, listened to her patiently, glad to shield the unhappy Lucy from the angry observations which she had herself to endure. She then returned to her cousin, and remained with her for the rest of the day—though there seemed very little to repay this patient attention to her feelings. Lucy turned with peevishness from her sisters, when they either offered their pity, or attempted to gratify their curiosity, and they soon left her to herself.