e such
hope!

He told her that his past life had been expensive; that, though he
was not in debt, he had lived up to every shilling that he had, and
that he had contracted habits of expenditure which it would be almost
impossible for him to lay aside at a day's notice. Then he spoke of
entanglements, meaning, as he did so, to explain more fully what were
their nature,--but not daring to do so when he found that Lily was
altogether in the dark as to what he meant. No; he was not a generous
man,--a very ungenerous man. And yet, during all this time, he
thought that he was guided by principle. "It will be best that I
should be honest with her," he said to himself. And then he told
himself, scores of times, that when making his offer he had expected,
and had a right to expect, that she would not be penniless. Under
those circumstances he had done the best he could for her--offering
her his heart honestly, with a quick readiness to make her his own
at the earliest day that she might think possible. Had he been more
cautious, he need not have fallen into this cruel mistake; but she,
at any rate, could not quarrel with him for his imprudence. And
still he was determined to stand by his engagement and willing to
marry her, although, as he the more thought of it, he felt the more
strongly that he would thereby ruin his prospects, and thrust beyond
his own reach all those good things which he had hoped to win. As
he continued to talk to her he gave himself special credit for his
generosity, and felt that he was only doing his duty by her in
pointing out to her all the difficulties which lay in the way of
their marriage.

At first Lily said some words intended to convey an assurance that
she would be the most economical wife that man ever had, but she
soon ceased from such promises as these. Her perceptions were keen,
and she discovered that the difficulties of which he was afraid were
those which he must overcome before his marriage, not any which might
be expected to overwhelm him after it. "A cheap and nasty menage
would be my aversion," he said to her. "It is that which I want to
avoid,--chiefly for your sake." Then she promised him that she would
wait patiently for his time--"even though it should be for seven
years," she said, looking up into his face and trying to find there
some sign of approbation. "That's nonsense," he said. "People are
not patriarchs nowadays. I suppose we shall have to wait two years.
And that's a