“Not much, miss, I think; he goes sometimes to Lady Gourlay's and to Dean Palmer's. But do you know what I heard, miss I hope you won't grow jealous, though?”
Lucy gave a faint smile. “I hope not, Alice. What is it?” But here, on recollecting again the scene she had just closed below stairs, she shuddered, and could not help exclaiming, “Oh, gracious heaven!” Then suddenly throwing off, as it were, all thought and reflection connected with it, she looked again at her maid, and repeated the question, “What is it, Alice?”
“Why, miss, have you ever seen Lord Dunroe's sister?”
“Yes, in London; but she was only a girl, though a lovely girl.”
“Well, miss, do you know what? She's in love with some one.”
“Poor girl!” exclaimed, Lucy, “I trust the course of her love may run smoother than mine; but who is she supposed to be in love with?” she asked, not, however, without a blush, which, with all her virtues, was, as woman, out of her power to suppress.
“Oh,” replied Alley, “not with him—and dear knows it would be no disgrace to her, but the contrary, to fall in love with such a gentleman—no; but with a young officer of the Thirty-third, who they say is lovely.”
“What is his name, do you not know, Alice?”
“Roberts, I think. They met at Dean Palmer's and Lady Gourlay's; for it seems that Colonel Dundas was an old brother officer of Sir Edward's, when he was young and in the army.”
“I have met that young officer, Alice,” replied Lucy, “and I know not how it was, but I felt an—a—a—in fact, I cannot describe it. Those who were present observed that he and I resembled each other very much, and indeed the resemblance struck myself very forcibly.”