arry that other man; but in
doing so she had made a solemn promise to herself that she would
not marry John Eames. She had sworn it and would keep her oath. And
yet she regretted it! In writing home to her mother the next day,
she told Mrs. Dale that all the world was speaking well of John
Eames,--that John had won for himself a reputation of his own, and
was known far and wide to be a noble fellow. She could not keep
herself from praising John Eames, though she knew that such praise
might, and would, be used against her at some future time. "Though I
cannot love him I will give him his due," she said to herself.

"I wish you would make up your mind to have an 'it' for yourself,"
Emily Dunstable said to her again that night; "a nice 'it', so that I
could make a friend, perhaps a brother, of him."

"I shall never have an 'it', if I live to be a hundred," said Lily
Dale.

CHAPTER LIII

Rotten Row

[Illustration]

Lily had heard nothing as to the difficulty about her horse, and
could therefore enjoy her exercise without the drawback of feeling
that her uncle was subjected to an annoyance. She was in the habit of
going out every day with Bernard and Emily Dunstable, and their party
was generally joined by others who would meet them at Mrs. Thorne's
house. For Mrs. Thorne was a very hospitable woman, and there
were many who liked well enough to go to her house. Late in the
afternoon there would be a great congregation of horses before the
door,--sometimes as many as a dozen; and then the cavalcade would go
off into the Park, and there it would become scattered. As neither
Bernard nor Miss Dunstable were unconscionable lovers, Lily in these
scatterings did not often find herself neglected or lost. Her cousin
would generally remain with her, and as in those days she had no "it"
of her own she was well pleased that he should do so.

But it so happened that on a certain afternoon she found herself
riding in Rotten Row alone with a certain stout gentleman whom she
constantly met at Mrs. Thorne's house. His name was Onesiphorus Dunn,
and he was actually called Siph by his intimate friends. It had
seemed to Lily that everybody was an intimate friend of Mr. Dunn's,
and she was in daily fear lest she should make a mistake and call
him Siph herself. Had she done so it would not have mattered in the
least. Mr. Dunn, had he observed it at all, would neither have been
flattered or angry. A great many young ladies about