uth, she was
engaged, she at once accepted his offer. Then she tripped across the
room. "Adolphus," she said, "I can't dance with you, though I said
I would. John Eames has asked me, and I haven't stood up with him
before. You understand, and you'll be a good boy, won't you?"

Crosbie, not being in the least jealous, was a good boy, and sat
himself down to rest, hidden behind a door.

For the first few minutes the conversation between Eames and Lily was
of a very matter-of-fact kind. She repeated her wish that she might
see him in London, and he said that of course he should come and
call. Then there was silence for a little while, and they went
through their figure dancing.

"I don't at all know yet when we are to be married," said Lily, as
soon as they were again standing together.

"No; I dare say not," said Eames.

"But not this year, I suppose. Indeed, I should say, of course not."

"In the spring, perhaps," suggested Eames. He had an unconscious
desire that it might be postponed to some Greek kalends, and yet he
did not wish to injure Lily.

"The reason I mention it is this, that we should be so very glad if
you could be here. We all love you so much, and I should so like to
have you here on that day."

Why is it that girls so constantly do this,--so frequently ask men
who have loved them to be present at their marriages with other
men? There is no triumph in it. It is done in sheer kindness and
affection. They intend to offer something which shall soften and
not aggravate the sorrow that they have caused. "You can't marry me
yourself," the lady seems to say. "But the next greatest blessing
which I can offer you shall be yours;--you shall see me married to
somebody else." I fully appreciate the intention, but in honest
truth, I doubt the eligibility of the proffered entertainment.

On the present occasion John Eames seemed to be of this opinion, for
he did not at once accept the invitation.

"Will you not oblige me so far as that?" she said softly.

"I would do anything to oblige you," said he gruffly; "almost
anything."

"But not that?"

"No; not that. I could not do that." Then he went off upon his
figure, and when they were next both standing together, they remained
silent till their turn for dancing had again come. Why was it, that
after that night Lily thought more of John Eames than ever she had
thought before;--felt for him, I mean, a higher respect, as for a man
who had a will of his own?