“Oh! mamma, I must tell you something,” she said, coming up to her mother’s bedroom, after a long ramble with Mr Crosbie through those Allington fields.

“Is it about Mr Crosbie?”

“Yes, mamma.”  And then the rest had been said through the medium of warm embraces and happy tears rather than by words.

As she sat in her mother’s room, hiding her face on her mother’s shoulders, Bell had come, and had knelt at her feet.

“Dear Lily,” she had said, “I am so glad.”  And then Lily remembered how she had, as it were, stolen her lover from her sister, and she put her arms round Bell’s neck and kissed her.

“I knew how it was going to be from the very first,” said Bell.  “Did I not, mamma?”

“I’m sure I didn’t,” said Lily.  “I never thought such a thing was possible.”

“But we did,—­mamma and I.”

“Did you?” said Lily.

“Bell told me that it was to be so,” said Mrs Dale.  “But I could hardly bring myself at first to think that he was good enough for my darling.”

“Oh, mamma! you must not say that.  You must think that he is good enough for anything.”

“I will think that he is very good.”

“Who could be better?  And then, when you remember all that he is to give up for my sake!—­ And what can I do for him in return?  What have I got to give him?”

Neither Mrs Dale nor Bell could look at the matter in this light, thinking that Lily gave quite as much as she received.  But they both declared that Crosbie was perfect, knowing that by such assurances only could they now administer to Lily’s happiness; and Lily, between them, was made perfect in her happiness, receiving all manner of encouragement in her love, and being nourished in her passion by the sympathy and approval of her mother and sister.

And then had come that visit from Johnny Eames.  As the poor fellow marched out of the room, giving them no time to say farewell, Mrs Dale and Bell looked at each other sadly; but they were unable to concoct any arrangement, for Lily had run across the lawn and was already on the ground before the window.

“As soon as we got to the end of the shrubbery there were Uncle Christopher and Bernard close to us; so I told Adolphus he might go on by himself.”

“And who do you think has been here?” said Bell.  But Mrs Dale said nothing.  Had time been given to her to use her own judgment, nothing should have been said at that moment as to Johnny’s visit.

“Has anybody been here since I went?  Whoever it was didn’t stay very long.”

“Poor Johnny Eames,” said Bell.  Then the colour came up into Lily’s face, and she bethought herself in a moment that the old friend of her young days had loved her, that he, too, had had hopes as to his love, and that now he had heard tidings which would put an end to such hopes.  She understood it all in a moment, but understood also that it was necessary that she should conceal such understanding.