He was old enough to have made up his mind on such a subject, and he had not spoken out.

He did not mean marriage.

That was quite evident to Lady Fawn;--and her dear Lucy was revelling in hopes which would make her miserable.

If Lucy could only have known of the letter, which was already her own property though lying in the pillar letter-box in Fleet Street, and which had not already been sent down and delivered simply because it was Sunday morning! But she was very brave.

"He does love me," she said.