ave been unhappy,--very unhappy. I did think
that my heart would break. But that has passed away, and I believe I
can be as happy as my neighbours. We're all of us sure to have some
troubles, as you used to tell us when we were children."

Mrs Dale felt that she had begun wrong, and that she would have been
able to make better progress had she omitted all mention of Crosbie's
name. She knew exactly what it was that she wished to say,--what were
the arguments which she desired to expound before her daughter; but
she did not know what language to use, or how she might best put her
thoughts into words. She paused for a while, and Lily went on with
her work as though the conversation was over. But the conversation
was not over.

"It was about John Eames, and not about Mr Crosbie, that I wished to
speak to you."

"Oh, mamma!"

"My dear, you must not hinder me in doing what I think to be a duty.
I heard what he said to you and what you replied, and of course I
cannot but have my mind full of the subject. Why should you set
yourself against him in so fixed a manner?"

"Because I love another man." These words she spoke out loud, in a
steady, almost dogged tone, with a certain show of audacity,--as
though aware that the declaration was unseemly, but resolved that,
though unseemly, it must be made.

"But, Lily, that love, from its very nature, must cease; or, rather,
such love is not the same as that you felt when you thought that you
were to be his wife."

"Yes, it is. If she died, and he came to me in five years time, I
would still take him. I should think myself constrained to take him."

"But she is not dead, nor likely to die."

"That makes no difference. You don't understand me, mamma."

"I think I do, and I want you to understand me also. I know how
difficult is your position; I know what your feelings are; but I know
this also, that if you could reason with yourself, and bring yourself
in time to receive John Eames as a dear friend--"

"I did receive him as a dear friend. Why not? He is a dear friend. I
love him heartily,--as you do."

"You know what I mean?"

"Yes, I do; and I tell you it is impossible."

"If you would make the attempt, all this misery would soon be
forgotten. If once you could bring yourself to regard him as
a friend, who might become your husband, all this would be
changed,--and I should see you happy!"

"You are strangely anxious to be rid of me, mamma!"

"Yes, Lily;--to be rid