"Do you remember that day, Lucy?" he said again.
"Yes, I remember it," she said.
"Why did you say it was impossible?
"Did I say impossible?" She knew that she had said so. She remembered
how she had waited till he had gone, and that then, going to her own
room, she had reproached herself with the cowardice of the falsehood.
She had lied to him then; and now--how was she punished for it?
"Well, I suppose it was possible," she said.
"But why did you say so when you knew it would make me so miserable?"
"Miserable! nay, but you went away happy enough! I thought I had
never seen you look better satisfied."
"Lucy!"
"You had done your duty, and had had such a lucky escape! What
astonishes me is that you should have ever come back again. But the
pitcher may go to the well once too often, Lord Lufton."
"But will you tell me the truth now?"
"What truth?"
"That day, when I came to you--did you love me at all then?"
"We'll let bygones be bygones, if you please."
"But I swear you shall tell me. It was such a cruel thing to answer
me as you did, unless you meant it. And yet you never saw me again
till after my mother had been over for you to Mrs. Crawley's."
"It was absence that made me--care for you."
"Lucy, I swear I believe you loved me then.
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