 of egoism. Even now,
that she is walking up and down with a little triumphant flutter of her girlish
heart at the sense that she is loved by the person of chief consequence in her
small world, you may see in her hazel eyes an ever-present sunny benignity, in
which the momentary harmless flashes of personal vanity are quite lost; and if
she is happy in thinking of her lover, it is because the thought of him mingles
readily with all the gentle affections and good-natured offices with which she
fills her peaceful days. Even now, her mind, with that instantaneous alternation
which makes two currents of feeling or imagination seem simultaneous, is
glancing continually from Stephen to the preparations she has only half finished
in Maggie's room. Cousin Maggie should be treated as well as the grandest
lady-visitor - nay, better, for she should have Lucy's best prints and drawings
in her bedroom, and the very finest bouquet of spring flowers on her table.
Maggie would enjoy all that - she was so fond of pretty things! And there was
poor aunt Tulliver, that no one made any account of - she was to be surprised
with the present of a cap of superlative quality, and to have her health drunk
in a gratifying manner, for which Lucy was going to lay a plot with her father
this evening. Clearly, she had not time to indulge in long reveries about her
own happy love-affairs. With this thought she walked towards the door, but
paused there.
    »What's the matter, then, Minny?« she said, stooping in answer to some
whimpering of that small quadruped, and lifting his glossy head against her pink
cheek. »Did you think I was going without you? Come, then, let us go and see
Sinbad.«
    Sinbad was Lucy's chestnut horse, that she always fed with her own hand when
he was turned out in the paddock. She was fond of feeding dependent creatures,
and knew the private tastes of all the animals about the house, delighting in
the little rippling sounds of her canaries when their beaks were busy with fresh
seed, and in the small nibbling pleasures of certain animals which, lest she
should appear too trivial, I will here call »the more familiar rodents.«
    Was not Stephen Guest right in his decided opinion that this slim maiden of
eighteen was quite the sort of wife a man would not be likely to repent of
marrying? - a woman who was loving and thoughtful for other women, not giving
them Judas-kisses with eyes askance on their welcome defects
