re above ten minutes.
Ten minutes will say all I've got to say, and do all I've got to do.
And then I suppose I shall go and cut names about upon bridges,--eh,
Lady Julia?" Lady Julia understood his words; for once, upon a former
occasion, she had found him cutting Lily's name on the rail of a
wooden bridge in her brother's grounds. But he had now been a couple
of hours at the Small House, and had not said a word of that which he
had come to say.

"Are you going to walk out with us after lunch?" said Lily.

"He will have had walking enough," said Mrs. Dale.

"We'll convoy him back part of the way," said Lily.

"I'm not going yet," said Johnny, "unless you turn me out."

"But we must have our walk before it is dark," said Lily.

"You might go up with him to your uncle," said Mrs. Dale. "Indeed,
I promised to go up myself, and so did you, Grace, to see the
microscope. I heard Mr. Dale give orders that one of those long-legged
reptiles should be caught on purpose for your inspection."

Mrs. Dale's little scheme for bringing the two together was very
transparent, but it was not the less wise on that account. Schemes
will often be successful, let them be ever so transparent. Little
intrigues become necessary, not to conquer unwilling people, but
people who are willing enough, who, nevertheless, cannot give way
except under the machinations of an intrigue.

"I don't think I'll mind looking at the long-legged creature,
to-day," said Johnny.

"I must go, of course," said Grace.

Lily said nothing at the moment, either about the long-legged
creature or the walk. That which must be, must be. She knew well why
John Eames had come there. She knew that the visits to his mother
and to Lady Julia would never have been made, but that he might have
this interview. And he had a right to demand, at any rate, as much as
that. That which must be, must be. And therefore when both Mrs. Dale
and Grace stoutly maintained their purpose of going up to the squire,
Lily neither attempted to persuade John to accompany them, nor said
that she would do so herself.

"I will convoy you home myself," she said, "and Grace, when she has
done with the beetle, shall come and meet me. Won't you, Grace?"

"Certainly."

"We are not helpless young ladies in these parts, nor yet timorous,"
continued Lily. "We can walk about without being afraid of ghosts,
robbers, wild bulls, young men, or gipsies. Come the field path,
Grace. I will go as far as