ink we may say that he was right. If Lily
would ever listen to him again at all, she certainly would not be
deterred from marrying him by his own story of his debts.

CHAPTER XLV

Lily Dale Goes to London

One morning towards the end of March the squire rapped at the window
of the drawing-room of the Small House, in which Mrs. Dale and her
daughter were sitting. He had a letter in his hand, and both Lily and
her mother knew that he had come down to speak about the contents of
the letter. It was always a sign of good-humour on the squire's part,
this rapping at the window. When it became necessary to him in his
gloomy moods to see his sister-in-law, he would write a note to her,
and she would go across to him at the Great House. At other times,
if, as Lily would say, he was just then neither sweet nor bitter, he
would go round to the front door and knock, and be admitted after the
manner of ordinary people; but when he was minded to make himself
thoroughly pleasant he would come and rap at the drawing-room window,
as he was doing now.

"I'll let you in, uncle; wait a moment," said Lily, as she unbolted
the window which opened out upon the lawn. "It's dreadfully cold, so
come in as fast as you can."

"It's not cold at all," said the squire. "It's more like spring than
any morning we've had yet. I've been sitting without a fire."

"You won't catch us without one for the next two months; will he,
mamma? You have got a letter, uncle. Is it for us to see?"

"Well--yes; I've brought it down to show you. Mary, what do you think
is going to happen?"

A terrible idea occurred to Mrs. Dale at that moment, but she was much
too wise to give it expression. Could it be possible that the squire
was going to make a fool of himself and get married? "I am very bad
at guessing," said Mrs. Dale. "You had better tell us."

"Bernard is going to be married," said Lily.

"How did you know?" said the squire.

"I didn't know. I only guessed."

"Then you've guessed right," said the squire, a little annoyed at
having his news thus taken out of his mouth.

"I am so glad," said Mrs. Dale; "and I know from your manner that you
like the match."

"Well,--yes. I don't know the young lady, but I think that upon the
whole I do like it. It's quite time, you know, that he got married."

"He's not thirty yet," said Mrs. Dale.

"He will be, in a month or two."

"And who is it, uncle?"

"Well;--as you're so good at guessing, I su