"I shall lie down at once," Mrs. Costello said. "It is not uncomfortable here, and I think it is always best."
"But it is so early, and on deck the air is so pleasant. Should you mind my leaving you for a little while?"
"Not at all. There is no reason why you should stay down here if you dislike it. Maurice will take care of you."
But Lucia had no intention of waiting for Maurice. She saw her mother comfortably settled, and then stole up alone to the deck. The boat had not yet started; it seemed to lie in the very shadow of the quaint old town, and Lucia could trace the outline of the buildings against the starry sky.
She felt a little soft sensation of regret at saying good-bye to this last corner of France. 'And yet,' she thought, 'I have been very unhappy here. I wonder if England will be happier?'
She stood leaning against the bulwarks, looking now at the town, now at the dark glimmer of the water below, and, to tell the truth, beginning to wonder where Maurice was. While she wondered, he came up to her and spoke.
"Lucia, it is you then? I thought you would not be able to stay below."
"No. It is so hot. Here the night is lovely."
"The deck is tolerably clear now. Come and walk up and down a little—unless you are tired?"
"I am tired, but to walk will rest me."