Lucy

“ Many a fine carriage drew up before the door of the humble cottage, and bright ladies and dashing gentlemen sauntered beneath the shade, while the rosy fingers of Lucy adjusted bouquets for them, her bright lips wreathed with smiles, and her sunny eye turning to her grandmother at the placing of every stem, as though for approbation of her taste. Not a child in all the neighbourhood was so happy as Lucy. Not a child in all the neighbourhood was so beautiful, so gentle, and so good. ”

“ Lucy's ambition—a sledge, a thing without wheels, but gliding along most rapidly on the hard snow; flying, flying almost fast enough to take away her breath, and leaving birds, foxes, and any creature she saw for one instant, far behind. ”

“ Lucy looked half-frightened, and answered, "I don't understand you. I should have to die first;" and she shuddered at the thought.
"No; you may have Christ with you always, without dying, but you cannot see Him. He will take care of you, and you can speak to Him, and He will do what you ask Him. If you remember that He loves you and is ever at your side, when you come to die it will seem like opening your eyes to see the kind Friend who has been so long with you."
Lucy's eyes filled with tears, and in her heart she wished that she loved the Saviour as Rosa did. ”

“ Lucy's lithe shape, that seem'd on air to glide;
Eyed with complacent, not impassion'd, gaze;
So Age looks on, where some fair Childhood plays:
Far as soars Childhood from dim Age's scope,
Beauty to him who links it not with hope!
"Sing me, sweet Lucy," said Calantha, "sing
Our favourite song—'The Maiden and the King.'
Brother, thou lov'st not music, or, at least,
But some wild war-song that recalls the East.
Who loves not music, still may pause to hark
Nature's free gladness hymning in the lark:
As sings the bird sings Lucy! all her art
A voice in which you listen to a heart." ”

“ Anyway, Lady Lucy, it was not much like hating you when God brought back your father from the prison and gave you such a nice home and such a nice lady to take care of you."
Lucy looked puzzled. "Did he do that? I never thought of that."
"Of course he did. He gives us all things. That is the reason we call him our Father, I suppose."
"I never thought of that," said Lucy, again. "I thought he was like a great king, who sat up in heaven and did not care what happened, only to punish people when they do wrong. I never thought of his being any thing like my father." ”

“ Lucy clasped her hands with a start, and turned as pale as death. But the next instant, the blood rushed glowing into her face, and throwing back her head with a sparkling eye and a curling lip, she cried--"It is false! my lord the King--it is false!--I know whence this foul suspicion has arisen. Ay, and perhaps art may have overdone itself. ”

“ Lucy Button was the last blossom on a tree which had boasted many fair ones. When the grave opened to one after another of that doomed family, till none but this bright, beautiful bud was left, she became the all in all, and with the doting affection of age was she cherished. When poverty came to Granny Button’s threshold, she drew her one priceless jewel to her heart, and laughed at poverty. When sorrows of every kind compassed her about, and the sun went down in her heaven of hope, another rose in a holier heaven of love; and Lucy Button was this fountain of love-born light. ”

“ Something—was it a breath? a sigh?—made me look back into the attic where Lucy's clothes clung to the high-backed chair, like flower petals blown against a wall. The pier-glass had caught all the glory of the morning and was releasing it in quivering spears of light that dazzled me for a moment; I rubbed my eyes, and stared, and shook a little, for in the midst of all this splendour I saw Lucy! No pallid, rigid ghost, but something warm, eager with life, spreading the folds of the lilac gown like a butterfly warming its new wings in the strength of the sun. ”

“ Now, Lucy is pretty square-cornered mentally, but she comes of a stock on the mother's side somewhat given to dreaming. That mother of hers—she is seventy-six if she is a day—will see as much beauty in the sky and breathe the fragrance of the apple-blossoms with as fresh a pleasure as if the world were only sixteen years old, and world and woman were born twins. ”

“ Which is his real mother Lucy cannot quite make out, for she sees an immense party of black women, all shiny and polished, with a great many beads wound round their heads, necks, ankles, and wrists; and nothing besides the tiniest short petticoats: and all the fattest are the smartest; indeed, they have gourds of milk beside them, and are drinking it all day long to keep themselves fat. No sooner however is Lucy led in among them, than they all close round, some singing and dancing, and others laughing for joy, and crying, "Welcome, little daughter from the land of spirits!" ”

“ Now Lucy's arm entwined fondly in his, now tripping by his side, now calling his attention to some rare or sweet blossom, as Mr. Smith had called Miss Blake's in the morning, went they. In Lucy's bright face, as she glanced perpetually at her lord and husband, there was so much of love, so much of trust: and in his, Sir Karl's, there was a whole depth of apparent tenderness for her.
"Men were deceivers ever," angrily cried Miss Blake, recalling a line of the old ballad. "It's enough to make one sick. But I am sorry for Lucy; it will be a dreadful blow. ”

“ James went, forgiven, to his Bishops and Deans, and to lunch with his Johnny Mallet and the tufted. Lucy, her household duties done, arrayed herself for the tulips of the Park.
The grey watches of the night with their ache and moments of panic, the fever and fret, the wearing down of rage and emptying of wonder [Pg 140] and dismay, the broken snatches of dream-sleep, and the heavy slumber which exhaustion finally gave her—all this had brought downstairs, to be kissed, embraced and forgiven, a Lucy disillusioned and tired to death, but schooled to patience. ”

“ Lucy looked up and absorbed the scene, then closed her eyes and listened; and presently her lips parted gradually in so ravishing a smile, her eyes remaining closed, that even Eve, who saw her in her true light, a terrible girl come there to burn and destroy David, remaining cool as a cucumber, could hardly forbear seizing and mumbling her.
In certain companies you shall see a boisterous cordiality, which at bottom is as hollow as diplomacy; but there is a modest geniality which is to society what the bloom is to the plum.
And this charm Lucy found in her hosts of the catalpa. ”

“ In our state of life, Lucy, we cannot, like the happy country maid, give our hand at once where our heart is given, and seldom--seldom through ages, is it the lot of woman to find so happy a fate as mine, where the first lot I drew was the chief prize of the whole world--he whom alone my heart could ever love, and he who was destined to return it well.--He loves you, Lucy, I think,--this young captive lord? ”

“ Glances full of troubled mystery passed from one to another; there was an alarmed look on many faces, which those more distant seemed to comprehend; and still others came to speak to Lucy. It was useless—she could find no meaning in their words—the star of intellect had gone out—the temple was darkened. Poor, poor Lucy Dutton!
They bore her home—for she was passive and helpless—home to the sick old grandmother, who laid her withered hand on those bright locks, and kissed the cold cheek, and took her to her bosom, as though she had been an infant. ”

“ One bright girl, who had been Lucy’s playmate from the cradle, but had not seen her face for many months, drew impulsively towards her; but she met a reproving eye from the crowd, and only whispering, “I do pity you, Lucy!” she shrunk back, and sobbed almost as loud as her erring friend. Lucy started at the words, and, gazing wildly round her, tottered on after the coffin. ”

“ But Lucy made no reply.
"I see. It is what you cannot speak of."
"It is what I can never speak of to you or to any one, Margaret. But oh, it is hard to bear."
"It seems so to you, I am sure, whatever it may be. But in the very darkest trial and sorrow there is comfort to be found."
"Not for me," impetuously answered Lucy. "I think God has forgotten me."
"Lucy, hush! You know better. The darkest cloud ever o'ershadowing the earth, covers a bright sky. We see only the cloud, but the brightness is behind it; in time it will surely show itself and the cloud will have rolled away. God is above all. ”

“ Lucy had her full share of the sweet womanly instinct of obedience. It is an instinct which is often strong in proportion to the strength of the whole nature. It works so naturally and grows so strong in the fortunate daughter and the happy wife, that it adds terribly to the sense of disaster when the props to which it twines are withdrawn and it is left trailing on the ground. Lucy was quite ready to succumb to the genial domination of this wholesome kindly woman, already her sister in suspense and who might so soon be also her sister in sorrow. ”

“ For Lucy had dropped upon her knees by her cousin's side, and, hiding her face in her lap, was crying so bitterly, that her whole frame was convulsed by her sobs.
"Hush! Hush! My child. You will make yourself ill," said Cousin Deborah, soothing her. "What is it makes you cry? Did you think the thimble was lost?"
"Oh, Cousin Debby, I have been so wicked," sobbed Lucy. "You will never love me again, when I tell you what I have done."
"I shall not cease to love you, though you have been ever so naughty, if I see you are sorry for what you have done," said Cousin Deborah, gravely but kindly. ”

“ No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wild Moor,
The sweetest Thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
You yet may spy the Fawn at play,
The Hare upon the Green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
"To-night will be a stormy night,
You to the Town must go,
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your Mother thro' the snow."
"That, Father! will I gladly do;
'Tis scarcely afternoon—
The Minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the Moon."
At this the Father rais'd his hook
And snapp'd a faggot-band;
He plied his work, and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand. ”

“ Lucy said these words with all energy which showed that she was thoroughly in earnest, and which made the gentle little Dulcie look up with surprise and horror.
"Oh, Lady Lucy, you should not feel so! It is not right. If she has treated you ever so bad, you ought to forgive her."
"Aunt Bernard never forgave me or anybody," returned Lucy. "She said once that she never forgave or forgot; and I have heard Margery say that she would never answer her own son's letter, when he wrote begging her pardon for running away to sea." ”

“ Lucy reached down to assure herself that the cinch was tight, then she pulled her sombrero down hard, slackened the bridle, and let the King go. He simply broke his gait, he was so surprised. Lucy saw him trying to look back at her, as if he could not realize that this young woman rider had given him a free rein. Perhaps one reason he disliked her had been always and everlastingly that tight rein. Like the wary horse he was he took to a canter, to try out what his new freedom meant.
"Say, what's the matter with you?" called Lucy, disdainfully. "Are you lazy? ”

“ And now Lucy had no companion—but thought. Her face was raised, the eyes were shut, the beautiful mouth quivered in the effort to be still. She was mistress of herself, yet not for the moment wholly mistress of longing and of sorrow. A quick struggle passed over the face. There was another slight sob. Then Eleanor saw her raise the terra-cotta, bow her face upon it, press it long and lingeringly to her lips. It was like a gesture of eternal farewell; the gesture of a child expressing the heart of a woman. ”

“ An hour after daybreak, on as sweet a morning as ever dawned, in the midst of the magnificent scenery of the forest, Hugh de Monthermer and Lucy de Ashby stood by the side of their horses, ready to mount and depart. Love gave its sunshine to each heart. Lucy's bosom beat high at her deliverance by her lover. ”

“ But no Lucy came. Rosa and Harty came towards her, and wore astonished to see her face wot with tears.
"What is the matter?" asked Rosa: "have you hurt yourself?"
"No!" sobbed Lucy; "but Mrs. Maxwell says I must not go to church."
"Pooh! is that all?" said Harty; "why, you are not always so fond of church-going!"
This was true, for Lucy often stayed away from church when Mrs. Maxwell did not oblige her to go; but on this particular morning she wanted to go with her sister, whom she was beginning to love very dearly. ”

“ Life certainly was easy for Lucy. All a girl had to do was bleach her hair, be a dancer, and go to New York, to make everyone think she was wonderful and want to paint her. She could not keep her eyes from the paintings on the walls, or from comparing them with their subject.
They are simply wonderful. They don't look like Lucy but they must mean something deep. All those strong lines and triangles and patches of color. Sometimes you can even see Lucy. I don't know which I like best. ”

“ In short, James was growing sentimental about Lucy. Man of fashion as he was, with that keen eye for style and the mode, it may well be that Urquhart's interest in her was a kind of cachet. A hall-mark! However that may be, James looked at her more curiously during that July than he had done since he saw her first in the garden of Drem House. Yes, Lucy was pretty; more than that, she had charm. He saw it now. She moved her head about like a little bird—and yet she was not a little woman by any means; tall, rather, for a woman. ”