"Mind you don't forget. Good-bye."
"'Maurice,' 'Maurice,'" said Lucia, pettishly to herself. "It seems as if there was no one in the world but Maurice."
There was an odd coincidence at that moment between Lucia's thoughts and Mr. Percy's; neither, however, said anything about them to their companions.
Mrs. Costello was quietly knitting, when her daughter came slowly back, up the steps of the verandah, but Lucia was too restless and dissatisfied to sit down. She wanted something, and had not the least idea what. At last, she began to think that staying at home all day had made her feel so cross and uncomfortable.
"Mamma, do come for a walk," she said, putting her arm round her mother. "Come, I am tired of the house."
"You are tired, darling, I believe. Remember how late you were last night. But it is tea-time now."
"Oh, what a nuisance! I can go out afterwards, though."
"Yes, I dare say Maurice will walk with you."
"Mamma, I think I shall go to bed."
"In the meantime sit down here and talk to me."