hook their heads at the same
time, hinting that Mr Crosbie's life in London was not all that it
should be, and suggesting that she might have been more safe had she
been content to bestow herself upon some country neighbour of less
dangerous pretensions. Others declared that it was no such great
match after all. They knew his income to a penny, and believed
that the young people would find it very difficult to keep a house
in London unless the old squire intended to assist them. But,
nevertheless, Lily was envied as she rode through the town with her
handsome lover by her side.

And she was very happy. I will not deny that she had some feeling of
triumphant satisfaction in the knowledge that she was envied. Such a
feeling on her part was natural, and is natural to all men and women
who are conscious that they have done well in the adjustment of their
own affairs. As she herself had said, he was her bird, the spoil of
her own gun, the product of such capacity as she had in her, on which
she was to live, and, if possible, to thrive during the remainder of
her life. Lily fully recognised the importance of the thing she was
doing, and, in soberest guise, had thought much of this matter of
marriage. But the more she thought of it the more satisfied she was
that she was doing well. And yet she knew that there was a risk. He
who was now everything to her might die; nay, it was possible that
he might be other than she thought him to be; that he might neglect
her, desert her, or misuse her. But she had resolved to trust in
everything, and, having so trusted, she would not provide for herself
any possibility of retreat. Her ship should go out into the middle
ocean, beyond all ken of the secure port from which it had sailed;
her army should fight its battle with no hope of other safety than
that which victory gives. All the world might know that she loved him
if all the world chose to inquire about the matter. She triumphed in
her lover, and did not deny even to herself that she was triumphant.

Mrs Eames was delighted to see them. It was so good in Mr Crosbie to
come over and call upon such a poor, forlorn woman as her, and so
good in Captain Dale; so good also in the dear girls, who, at the
present moment, had so much to make them happy at home at Allington!
Little things, accounted as bare civilities by others, were esteemed
as great favours by Mrs Eames.

"And dear Mrs Dale? I hope she was not fatigued when we kept her up