"Good night love." And so the girls parted for the night.
To-morrow came, and Lucy rose, pale, but composed, and this satisfied Mabel more than any greater display of ardour.
"It is difficult," she said, turning from the mirror, which reflected back her altered features, "but it may bring me peace. Give me your arm, Mabel dear, and then we will go to the study—my face will look strange there, after that of the intellectual Mabel."
"Hush and take courage, we shall see which will be the favorite soon. Believe me, much as I value my uncle's favor, I shall be glad to resign it to you, if we cannot both be loved."
"Do not make me cry," returned Lucy, "I have shed tears enough—see how heavy my eyelids look."
Arm-in-arm they proceeded to the study, where Mr. Villars was seated at his work, no longer a disappointed student. He looked up, with a little surprise, on seeing Lucy, but, without a moment's hesitation, she advanced towards him, and, laying her hand on the table to steady herself, for she trembled with weakness, she said—
"Papa, the world has vexed me, will you let me come to you, for then I shall be safe."
She could scarcely have chosen a better introduction, for, had she offered her services and her company, both would probably have been now declined; but Mr. Villars was a kind-hearted man, and the speech touched him, and he replied, taking her hand—
"Come, my poor girl, whenever you like, for you are right in saying you will be safe with me, and I need a companion when Mabel is out of the way."
Then Mabel drew her to her own chosen seat by the fire, and gave her a footstool, telling her, that, if she liked, she might go on copying something she had begun, and when she was tired she could tack some papers together, with the needle and thread which she placed ready for her hand, on the little table where she had laid some writing materials.