“It will soon pass away,” she said.
“I will accept it at any rate without complaint.
But as to my uncle’s feelings, it is open to
me to speak, and to you, I should think, to listen
without indifference. He has been kind to us both,
and loves us two above any other living beings.
It’s not surprising that he should wish to see
us married, and it will not be surprising if your
refusal should be a great blow to him.”
“I shall be sorry—very sorry.”
“I also shall be sorry. I am now speaking
of him. He has set his heart upon it; and as
he has but few wishes, few desires, so is he the more
constant in those which he expresses. When he
knows this, I fear that we shall find him very stern.”
“Then he will be unjust.”
“No; he will not be unjust. He is always
a just man. But he will be unhappy, and will,
I fear, make others unhappy. Dear Bell, may not
this thing remain for a while unsettled? You will
not find that I take advantage of your goodness.
I will not intrude it on you again,—say
for a fortnight,—or till Crosbie shall be
gone.”
“No, no, no,” said Bell.
“Why are you so eager in your noes? There
can be no danger in such delay. I will not press
you,—and you can let my uncle think that
you have at least taken time for consideration.”
“There are things as to which one is bound to
answer at once. If I doubted myself, I would
let you persuade me. But I do not doubt myself,
and I should be wrong to keep you in suspense.
Dear, dearest Bernard, it cannot be; and as it cannot
he, you, as my brother, would bid me say so clearly.
It cannot be.”
As she made this last assurance, they heard the steps
of Lily and her lover close to them, and they both
felt that it would be well that their intercourse
should thus be brought to a close. Neither had
known how to get up and leave the place, and yet each
had felt that nothing further could then be said.
“Did you ever see anything so sweet and affectionate
and romantic?” said Lily, standing over them
and looking at them. “And all the while
we have been so practical and worldly. Do you
know, Bell, that Adolphus seems to think we can’t
very well keep pigs in London. It makes me so
unhappy.”
“It does seem a pity,” said Crosbie, “for
Lily seems to know all about pigs.”
“Of course I do. I haven’t lived
in the country all my life for nothing. Oh, Bernard,
I should so like to see you rolled down into the bottom
of the ha-ha. Just remain there, and we’ll
do it between us.”
Whereupon Bernard got up, as did Bell also, and they
all went in to tea.
Mrs Dale’s Little Party
The next day was the day of the party. Not a
word more was said on that evening between Bell and
her cousin, at least, not a word more of any peculiar
note; and when Crosbie suggested to his friend on the
following morning that they should both step down and
see how the preparations were getting on at the Small
House, Bernard declined.
