won't be very long, I
suppose, uncle?"

"About a month, probably," said the squire.

"Oh, mamma; what will you do?"

"Never mind me, Lily."

"You must get Bell and the children to come. But I cannot imagine
living away from home a month. I was never away from home a month in
my life."

And Lily did go up to town with her uncle, two days only having been
allowed to her for her preparations. There was very much for her to
think of in such a journey. It was not only that she would see Emily
Dunstable who was to be her cousin's wife, and that she would go to
the play and visit the new conjurer's entertainment, but that she
would be in the same city both with Adolphus Crosbie and with John
Eames. Not having personal experience of the wideness of London, and
of the wilderness which it is,--of the distance which is set there
between persons who are not purposely brought together,--it seemed
to her fancy as though for this month of her absence from home she
would be brought into close contiguity with both her lovers. She
had hitherto felt herself to be at any rate safe in her fortress at
Allington. When Crosbie had written to her mother, making a renewed
offer which had been rejected, Lily had felt that she certainly need
not see him unless it pleased her to do so. He could hardly force
himself upon her at Allington. And as to John Eames, though he would,
of course, be welcome at Allington as often as he pleased to show
himself, still there was a security in the place. She was so much
at home there that she could always be the mistress of the occasion.
She knew that she could talk to him at Allington as though from
ground higher than that on which he stood himself; but she felt that
this would hardly be the case if she should chance to meet him in
London. Crosbie probably would not come in her way. Crosbie, she
thought,--and she blushed for the man she loved, as the idea came
across her mind,--would be afraid of meeting her uncle. But John
Eames would certainly find her; and she was led by the experience of
latter days to imagine that John would never cross her path without
renewing his attempts.

But she said no word of all this, even to her mother. She was
contented to confine her outspoken expectations to Emily Dunstable,
and the play, and the conjurer. "The chances are ten to one against
my liking her, mamma," she said.

"I don't see that, my dear."

"I feel to be too old to think that I shall ever like any more