d to accept it."

"Pray don't, my dear; not just now. I am breaking a sort of promise
in telling you at all,--only I could not keep it to myself. And he
has so many things to worry him! Though he says nothing about it now,
he has half broken his heart about you and Bernard." Then, too, Mrs
Dale told the girls what request the squire had just made, and the
manner in which he had made it. "The tone of his voice as he spoke
brought tears into my eyes. I almost wish we had not done anything."

"But, mamma," said Lily, "what difference can it make to him? You
know that our presence near him was always a trouble to him. He never
really wanted us. He liked to have Bell there when he thought that
Bell would marry his pet."

"Don't be unkind, Lily."

"I don't mean to be unkind. Why shouldn't Bernard be his pet? I
love Bernard dearly, and always thought it the best point in Uncle
Christopher that he was so fond of him. I knew, you know, that it
was no use. Of course I knew it, as I understood all about--somebody
else. But Bernard is his pet."

"He's fond of you all, in his own way," said Mrs Dale.

"But is he fond of you?--that's the question," said Lily. "We could
have forgiven him anything done to us, and have put up with any words
he might have spoken to us, because he regards us as children. His
giving a hundred a year to Bell won't make you comfortable in this
house if he still domineers over you. If a neighbour be neighbourly,
near neighbourhood is very nice. But Uncle Christopher has not
been neighbourly. He has wanted to be more than an uncle to us, on
condition that he might be less than a brother to you. Bell and I
have always felt that his regard on such terms was not worth having."

"I almost feel that we have been wrong," said Mrs Dale; "but in truth
I never thought that the matter would be to him one of so much
moment."

When Bell had gone, Mrs Dale and Lily were not disposed to continue
with much energy the occupation on which they had all been employed
for some days past. There had been life and excitement in the work
when they had first commenced their packing, but now it was grown
wearisome, dull, and distasteful. Indeed so much of it was done that
but little was left to employ them, except those final strappings and
fastenings, and that last collection of odds and ends which could not
be accomplished till they were absolutely on the point of starting.
The squire had said that unpacking would be easier