"Yes." Lucia's cheeks grew rosy as she answered, for she remembered why the idea of European travel had seemed pleasant to her. One word from her companion might have set all those fluttering thoughts and hopes at rest; but Bella guessed nothing of them, and neither saw Lucia's change of colour, nor, if she had seen it, would have understood its cause.
"Do you think you will be long away?" she asked.
"I have no idea now. I think that before, mamma did not mean to come back at all."
"And you can leave Canada, and all of us so easily?"
"Oh! no, no;" and Lucia blushed more deeply than before. "Oh! Bella, I am a real Canadian girl. I should long for Canada again often, often, if I were away,—and for all of you."
"I don't see," Bella said, half sadly, half crossly, "what good it does people to go away. There is Maurice, who seems to have everything he can wish for, and yet, according to Mr. Leigh, he is perfectly restless and miserable, and wants to come back."
"Poor Maurice! if he is coming back I wish he would come before we go; but I suppose he cannot leave while Mr. Beresford lives."
"I don't see why you should care. You will see him in England; shan't you?"
"No. Mamma can't go to England. But perhaps he might come over to see us in France, if we stop there."
"Of course, he will. And if by that time you are both home sick, you can come out together again, you know."