"A visitor, mother, from England."
"From England? Not your cousin?"
"No, indeed. Guess again."
"Tell me. Quickly, Lucia."
"What do you say to Maurice?"
"Impossible!"
But Maurice, hearing his own name, came forward boldly.
"I have but just arrived, Mrs. Costello. I told you I should find you out."
They looked at each other with something not unlike defiance, but nevertheless Mrs. Costello shook hands with her guest cordially enough. Certainly he had kept his word—there might be a mistake somewhere, and at all events, for the present moment he was here, and it was very pleasant to see him.
So the three sat together and talked, and it seemed so natural that they should be doing it, that what did begin to be strange and incredible was the separation, and the various events of the past six months. But after Claudine had come in, and Lucia had been obliged to go away "on hospitable cares intent," to arrange with her some little addition to the dinner which Maurice was to share with them, the newcomer took advantage of her absence, and resolved to get as many as possible of his difficulties over at once. He had not yet quite forgiven his faithless ally, and he meant to make a new treaty, now that he was on the spot to see it carried out.