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unmixed happiness。
But； I grieve to say； I have something unpleasant to add。 While she was
making her excuses to me； and speaking in the sensible and satisfactory
terms which I have just repeated； I noticed a curious underlying
embarrassment in her manner； entirely unlike any previous embarrassment
which had ever intruded itself between us。 And； stranger still； on the
first occasion when Zillah came into the room； while I was in it； I
observed that Lucilla's embarrassment was reflected （when the old woman
spoke to me） in the face and manner of Lucilla's nurse。
But one conclusion could possibly follow from what I saw：they were both
concealing something from me； and they were both more or less ashamed of
what they were doing。
Somewherenot very far back in these pagesI have said of myself that I
am not by nature a woman who is easily ready to suspect others。 On this
very account； when I find suspicion absolutely forced on meas it was
nowI am apt to fly into the opposite extreme。 In the present case； I
fixed on the person to suspectall the more readily from having been
slow to suspect him in bygone days。 〃In some way or other；〃 I said to
myself； 〃Nugent Dubourg is at the bottom of this。〃
Was he communicating with her privately； in the name and in the character
of Oscar？
The bare idea of it hurried me headlong into letting her know that I had
noticed the change in her。
〃Lucilla！〃 I said。 〃Has anything happened？〃
〃What do you mean？〃 she asked coldly。
〃I fancy I see some change〃 I began。
〃I don't understand you；〃 she answered； walking away from me as she
spoke。
I said no more。 If our intimacy had been less close and less
affectionate； I might have openly avowed to her what was passing in my
mind。 But how could I say to Lucilla； You are deceiving me？ It would have
been the end of our sisterhoodthe end of our friendship。 When
confidence is withdrawn between two people who love each
othereverything is withdrawn。 They are on the footing of strangers from
that moment； and must stand on ceremony。 Delicate minds will understand
why I accepted the check she had administered to me； and said no more。
I went into the village alone。 Managing matters so as to excite no
surprise； I contrived to have a little gossip about Nugent with
Gootheridge at the inn； and with the servant at Browndown。 If Nugent had
returned secretly to Dimchurch； one of those two men； in our little
village； must almost certainly have seen him。 Neither of them had seen
him。
I inferred from this that he had not tried to communicate with her
personally。 Had he attempted it （more cunningly and more safely） by
letter？
I went back to the rectory。 It was close on the hour which I had
appointed with Lucillanow that the responsibility rested on my
shouldersfor allowing her to use her eyes。 On taking off the bandage； I
noticed a circumstance which confirmed the conclusion at which I had
already arrived。 Her eyes deliberately avoided looking into mine。
Suppressing as well as I could the pain which this new discovery caused
me； I repeated Grosse's words； prohibiting her from attempting to look
into a book； or to use a pen； until he had seen her again。
〃There is no need for him to forbid me to do that；〃 she said。
〃Have you attempted it already？〃 I inquired。
〃I looked into a little book of engravings；〃 she answered。 〃But I could
distinguish nothing。 The lines all mingled together and swam before my
eyes。〃
〃Have you tried to write？〃 I asked next。 （I was ashamed of myself for
laying that trap for heralthough the serious necessity of discovering
whether she was privately in correspondence with Nugent； might surely
have excused it？）
〃No；〃 she replied。 〃I have not tried to write。〃
She changed color when she made that answer。 It is necessary to own that；
in putting my question； I was too much excited to call to mind； what I
should have remembered in a calmer state。 There was no necessity for her
trying to use her eyeseven if she was really carrying on a
correspondence which she wished to keep secret from me。 Zillah had been
in the habit of reading her letters to her； before I appeared at the
rectory； and she could write short notes （as I have already mentioned） by
feeling her way on the paper with her finger。 Besides； having learnt to
read by touch （that is to say with raised characters）； just as she had
learnt to writeeven if her eyes had been sufficiently recovered to
enable her to distinguish small objects； nothing but practice could have
taught her to use them for purposes of correspondence。
These considerations； though they did not strike me at the time； occurred
to me later in the day； and altered my opinion to a certain extent。 I now
interpreted the change of color which I had noticed in her as the outward
sign of suspicion on her sidesuspicion that I had a motive of my own in
interrogating her。 For the rest； my doubts of Nugent remained unmoved。
Try as I might； I could not divest my mind of the idea that he was
playing me false； and that in one way or another he had contrived； not
only to communicate with Lucilla； but to persuade her to keep me in
ignorance of what he had done。
I deferred to the next day any attempt at making further discoveries。
The last thing at night； I had a momentary impulse to question Zillah。
Reflection soon checked it。 My experience of the nurse's character told
me that she would take refuge in flat denialand would then inform her
mistress of what had happened。 I knew enough of Lucilla to know （after
what had already passed between us） that a quarrel with me would follow。
Things were bad enough already； without making them worse in that way。
When the morning came； I resolved to keep a watchful eye on the village
post…office； and on the movements of the nurse。
When the morning came； there was a letter for me from abroad。
The address was in the handwriting of one of my sisters。 We usually wrote
to each other at intervals of a fortnight or three weeks。 This letter had
followed its predecessor after an interval of less than one week。 What
did it mean？ Good news or bad？
I opened the letter。
It enclosed a telegram； announcing that my poor dear father was lying
dangerously wounded at Marseilles。 My sisters had already gone to him：
they implored me to follow them without one moment of needless delay。 Is
it necessary to tell the story of this horrible calamity？ Of course it
begins with a woman and an elopement。 Of course it ends with a young man
and a duel。 Have I not told you already？Papa was so susceptible； Papa
was so brave。 Oh； dear； dear！ the old story over again。 You have an
English proverb： 〃What is bred in the bone〃 etcetera； etcetera。 Let us
drop the veil。 I mean； let us end the chapter。
CHAPTER THE FORTY…FIRST
A Hard Time for Madame Pratolungo
OUGHT I to have been prepared for the calamity which had now fallen on my
sisters and myself？ If I had looked my own experience of my poor father
fairly in the face； would it not have been plain to me that the habits of
a life were not likely to be altered at the end of a life？ Surelyif I
had exerted my intelligenceI might have foreseen that the longer his