“You think he would have a better career in London?” said Lily, speaking under the influence of her superior presence of mind.

She had certainly shown defective judgment in desiring her mother not to leave them alone; and of this Mrs Dale soon felt herself aware.  The thing had to be done, and no little precautionary measure, such as this of Mrs Dale’s enforced presence, would prevent it.  Of this Mrs Dale was well aware; and she felt, moreover, that John was entitled to an opportunity of pleading his own cause.  It might be that such opportunity would avail him nothing, but not the less should he have it of right, seeing that he desired it.  But yet Mrs Dale did not dare to get up and leave the room.  Lily had asked her not to do so, and at the present period of their lives all Lily’s requests were sacred.  They continued for some time to talk of Crofts and his marriage; and when that subject was finished, they discussed their own probable,—­or, as it seemed now, improbable,—­removal to Guestwick.  “It’s going too far, mamma,” said Lily, “to say that you think we shall not go.  It was only last night that you suggested it.  The truth is, John, that Hopkins came in and discoursed with the most wonderful eloquence.  Nobody dared to oppose Hopkins.  He made us almost cry; he was so pathetic.”

“He has just been talking to me, too,” said John, “as I came through the squire’s garden.”

“And what has he been saying to you?” said Mrs Dale.

“Oh, I don’t know; not much.”  John, however, remembered well, at this moment, all that the gardener had said to him.  Did she know of that encounter between him and Crosbie? and if she did know of it, in what light did she regard it?

They had sat thus for an hour together, and Eames was not as yet an inch nearer to his object.  He had sworn to himself that he would not leave the Small House without asking Lily to be his wife.  It seemed to him as though he would be guilty of falsehood towards the earl if he did so.  Lord De Guest had opened his house to him, and had asked all the Dales there, and had offered himself up as a sacrifice at the cruel shrine of a serious dinner-party, to say nothing of that easier and lighter sacrifice which he had made in a pecuniary point of view, in order that this thing might be done.  Under such circumstances Eames was too honest a man not to do it, let the difficulties in his way be what they might.

He had sat there for an hour, and Mrs Dale still remained with her daughter.  Should he get up boldly and ask Lily to put on her bonnet and come out into the garden?  As the thought struck him, he rose and grasped at his hat.  “I am going to walk back to Guestwick,” said he.

“It was very good of you to come so far to see us.”

“I was always fond of walking,” he said.  “The earl wanted me to ride, but I prefer being on foot when I know the country, as I do here.”

“Have a glass of wine before you go.”