Ayala's Angel

st week she had hardly been out of the house; but this was attributed to her sorrow. Then she had accompanied her aunt

on in the kitchen than in the parlour. Lucy would not appreciate the fact that eggs at a penny a piece, whatever they might be, must be used for puddings, as eggs with even a reputation of freshness cost two-pence. Aunt Dosett, beyond this, never left the house on week-days except for

air. In London there is a rising doubt, under which before long, probably, the lions will succumb altogether. Mrs Dosett did believe somewhat in lions, but she believed also in exercise. And she was aware that the lions eat up chiefly rich people. Young ladies who must go about without mothers, brothers, uncles, carriages, or attendants of any sort, are not often eaten or even roared at. It is the dainty darlings for whom the roarings have to be feared. Mrs Dosett, aware that daintiness was no longer within the reach of her and hers, did as

ut as though really for a purpose of talking. There would be three or four constantly with Dormer in his studio, helping him but little perhaps in the real furtherance of his work, though discussing art subjects in a manner calculated to keep alive art-feeling among them. A novelist or two of a morning might

n of mark, who had a fine suite of rooms in the city and a villa on one of the lakes, but who never came to England. English connections were, he said, to him abominable, by which he perhaps meant that the restrictions of decent life were not to his taste. But his busts came, and his groups in marble, and now and again some gr

do for a man in Rome was as nothing to the position which a great artist might make for himself in London — that, in fact, an Englishman had better be an Englishman. At twenty-six he succeeded in his attempt, and became known as a young sculptor with a workshop at Brompton. He became known to many bot

soul’s longing though he shall get not a penny for it — though he shall starve as he put his last touch to it, when he knows that by drawing some duchess of the day he shall in a fortnight earn a ducal price? Shall a wife and child be less dear to him than to a lawyer — or to a shoemaker, or the very craving of his hunger less obdurate? A man’s self, and what he has within him and his belongings, with his outlook for this and other worlds — let that be the first, and the work, noble or otherwise, be the second. To be honest is greater than to have painted the San Sisto, or to have chiselled the Apollo, to have a

should do so! Not a word had been spoken, but each had thought that the other must have known. To Lucy a word had been spoken by her mother — “Do not think too much of him till you know,” the mother had said — not quite prudently. “Oh, no! I will think of him

tfulness, of that perfect mouth, and the deep but yet soft voice. Still even in her sorrow this new god of her idolatry was not altogether forgotten. It was told to her that he had been summoned

o the consolation which time would bring. “Not to me,” said Dormer. It is as though one had l

tween Lucy and the sculptor. “I ought not to have intruded on you perhaps

ill be glad tha

d y

and he held it for a moment as he looked into her eyes. There was not a

ough the long nights, she still thought of him — she could not keep herself from thinking. To a girl whose life is full of delights her lover need not be so very much — need not, at least, be everything. Though he be a lover to be loved at all points, her friends will be something, her dancing, her horse, her theatre-going, her brothers and sisters, even her father and mother. But Lucy had nothing. The vision of Isadore Hamel had passed across her life, and had left with her the only possession that she had. It need hardly be said that she never alluded to that possession at Kingsbury Crescent. It was not a possession from which any enjoyment could come exce

ver spoken a word or been addressed — had never seen a face that she had recognised. It had seemed to her that she had not an acquaintance in the world except Uncle Reg and Aunt Dosett. And now, almost within reach of her hand, was the one being in all the world whom she most longed to see. She did stand and the

y after day, and week after week, she did not see him. During this time there came letters from Ayala, saying that their return to England was postponed till the first week in February — that she would certainly see Lucy in February — that she was not going to be hurried through London in half an hour because her aunt wished it;

g that she and Augusta should be together in the house without speaking — thinking of her sister’s perils — when, of a sudden, Hamel was close before her! There was no question of calling to him now — no question of an attempt to see him face to face. She had been wandering along the path with eyes fixed upon the ground, when her name was sharply called, and they two were close to each other. Hamel had a friend with him, and it

et it escape him that Lady Tringle had not been very gracious to himself when once, in public, he had claimed acquaintance with Ayala. But at that he simply smiled. Then he had asked of Lucy where she lived. “With my uncle, Mr Dose

e you at all, t

ndon, or whether he intended to return to Rome. She was covered with bashfulness, and dreaded t

?” he

ensington Gardens. It would be dreadful, indeed, were he to imagine that she would consent to make an appoin

we have met am I to lose you again?” Lose her! What did he mean by losing her? She, too, had found a friend — she who

of her immediate abode. This was, at any rate, a certain address from where he might commence further inquiries, should he wish to make inqu

ould leave her, and he went. “I hope I

m her hand and again there was t

ad returned from his office. This was a most unusual occurrence. Her uncle, she knew, left Somerset House exactly at half past four, and always took an hour

m Ay

one, in the course of the day, from your uncle in Lombard Street. You had better

the letters; but they must b