Maurice left Lucia at the door, and went back to the hotel where he had promised Lady Dighton to lunch with her.  She was waiting for him, looking more than usually fair and pretty in the mourning she wore for her grandfather.  He could not help thinking, as he came in, how rich and handsome everything about her seemed, in contrast to the bare simplicity of his poorer friends—­yet certainly nature had intended Lucia for a much more stately and magnificent person than this little lady.

“Well?” she said smiling.  “Have you persuaded your friends to receive me?  I can assure you my curiosity has nearly overpowered me this morning.”

“You will be disappointed, of course.  You are imagining a heroine, and you will see only a young country girl.”

“For shame, Maurice!  If I am imagining a heroine, I wonder whose fault it is?”

“I wish you would not form your judgment for a week.  You are enough of a fine lady, Louisa, to be a little affected by externals, and my pearl has no fine setting at present; it will need looking at closely to find out its value.”

“And you think, oh most philosophical of lovers! that I am not capable of distinguishing a real pearl unless it is set in gold, and has its price ticketed?”

“I think, at least, that I am so anxious to see you the same kind friend to her as you have been to me, that I am troubling myself uselessly about the first impressions.”

“On both sides?  Well, trust me, Maurice I will like your Lucia for your sake, and try to make her like me.”

“Thank you; I know you will.  And after the first, you will not be able to help loving her.”

“Sir John is not to go with us?”

“Not unless you particularly wish it.  Where is he?”

“Gone out shopping.  Don’t laugh.  I suspect his shopping is of a different kind to mine, and quite as expensive.”

“Can anything be as expensive as the charming bonnets I heard you talking of this morning?”

“Take care.  Only hint that I am extravagant, and I will devote myself to corrupting Lucia, and avenge myself by making your pocket suffer.”

“I wish my pocket had anything to do with it.  Pray be careful, Louisa, and remember that I have not dared to speak to her yet.”

“I shall remember.  Come to lunch now.  Sir John will not be in.”

Maurice tried in vain to talk as they drove slowly along to Mrs. Costello’s.  The street was full of people, and Lady Dighton amused herself by looking out for acquaintances, and saluting those they met.  A good many English were in Paris; and she had also a pretty large circle of French people with whom she was on friendly terms; so that she had quite enough occupation to prevent her noticing her cousin’s silence.  But the moment the carriage stopped, she was ready to give her whole attention to him and his affairs; she gave him a little nod and smile full of sympathy as she went up the staircase, and the moment Claudine opened the door he perceived that he might leave everything in her hands with the most perfect confidence in her management.