Good-bye,
mother, and believe me your ever-affectionate son,
LUKE DAMEREL.
'P.S.--I do not know when we shall sail for the Indies; but in case,
please to direct to Private Damerel, --th Regiment, Light Dragoons,
Maidstone, or elsewhere; and the letter will be sure to come to hand.
Once more, God bless you, and may God bless _her_ too, dear mother.'
To describe Lucy's feelings while she read this simply-worded epistle
would be impossible. All the love and tenderness which she had felt
for Luke during the time she had known him, seemed to be concentrated
within her at that moment. At first she mourned the step he had taken
as hopeless and irreparable; but, casting her eyes upon the lace-work
she had the day before been doing, a sudden thought seized her. By
means of _that_, something might be eventually accomplished. With
these thoughts she quietly folded the letter, placed it on the table
beside the bed, and resumed the lace-work, scarcely speaking a word.
Mrs Damerel mistook this action for indifference, and in her sincere
desire for the girl's welfare, urged--not for the first time--plans
and sentiments which, though well meant, were utterly revolting to
Lucy.
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