Meanwhile Mr. Percy came and went, and found in his visits to the Cottage an entirely new kind of distraction.  It was strange to him to find himself welcomed and valued, genuinely, if shyly, for his own sake.  He had known vulgar women, who had flattered him because he was the son of an earl; and prudent ones who gave him but a carefully measured civility, because he was a portionless younger son.  Here he knew that both facts were absolutely nothing; and egotist as he was, this knowledge stirred most powerfully such depths as his nature possessed.  In Lucia’s presence he became almost as unworldly as herself; he gave himself up half willingly, half unconsciously to the enjoyment of feelings which no woman less thoroughly simple and natural could have awakened; but, it is true that when he left her he left also this strange region of sensations—­he returned precisely to his former self.

The only person, perhaps, who did him strict and complete justice was Mrs. Costello.  She, who had peculiar reasons for looking with unspeakable terror upon the suitors whom her child’s beauty was certain to attract, had weighed each look, word, gesture—­gleaned such knowledge as she could of his life, past and present, and judged him at last with an accuracy which her intense interest in the subject made almost perfect.  Over this result she both rejoiced and lamented; but for the present the one idea most constantly and strongly present to her was that Lucia must pass by-and-by, only too soon, out of the sweet hopes and dreams of girlhood, into the deep shadow which continually rested upon her own heart.  She knew how youth, which has never suffered, rebels with passionate struggles against its first sorrows.  She lived over and over again in imagination her child’s predestined trial.

But away from the unquiet household at the Cottage, there was beginning to be much gossip with regard to all these things, and many speculations of the usual kind as to the issue of Mr. Percy’s undisguised admiration for the beauty of Cacouna.  Bella Latour was questioned on all sides, and finding the general thirst for information a source of considerable amusement, she did not scruple to supply her friends with plenty of materials for their comments.  From Maurice Leigh, no such satisfaction was to be obtained—­the most inveterate news-seekers gained nothing from him.

A party of young people were collected one evening at Mrs. Scott’s—­a house about a mile from Cacouna, in the opposite direction to the Cottage.  Lucia had been invited, but Maurice, who arrived late, had brought a hasty note from her, excusing herself on the plea of her mother’s not being well.  Little notice was taken at the time, for all knew that Mrs. Costello had been looking ill lately, and it was therefore probable enough that she might be too much indisposed for Lucia to leave her.  But later in the evening, when they were tired with dancing, a group of girls began to chatter as they sat in a corner.