ed up her work
and went upstairs to her sister. "Uncle Christopher is below with
mamma," said she, "talking about business. I suppose it is something
to do with your marriage." But Bell was wrong. The squire's visit had
no reference to Lily's marriage.

Mrs Dale did not move or speak a word when Bell was gone, though it
was evident that the squire paused in order that she might ask some
question of him. "Mary," said he, at last, "I'll tell you what it
is that I have come to say to you." Whereupon she put the piece of
needlework which was in her hands down upon the work-basket before
her, and settled herself to listen to him.

"I wish to speak to you about Bell."

"About Bell?" said Mrs Dale, as though much surprised that he should
have anything to say to her respecting her eldest daughter.

"Yes, about Bell. Here's Lily going to be married, and it will be
well that Bell should be married too."

"I don't see that at all," said Mrs Dale. "I am by no means in a
hurry to be rid of her."

"No, I dare say not. But, of course, you only regard her welfare, and
I can truly say that I do the same. There would be no necessity for
hurry as to a marriage for her under ordinary circumstances, but
there may be circumstances to make such a thing desirable, and I
think that there are." It was evident from the squire's tone and
manner that he was very much in earnest; but it was also evident that
he found some difficulty in opening out the budget with which he had
prepared himself. He hesitated a little in his voice, and seemed to
be almost nervous. Mrs Dale, with some little spice of ill-nature,
altogether abstained from assisting him. She was jealous of
interference from him about her girls, and though she was of course
bound to listen to him, she did so with a prejudice against and
almost with a resolve to oppose anything that he might say. When he
had finished his little speech about circumstances, the squire paused
again; but Mrs Dale still sat silent, with her eyes fixed upon his
face.

"I love your children very dearly;" said he, "though I believe you
hardly give me credit for doing so."

"I am sure you do," said Mrs Dale, "and they are both well aware of
it."

"And I am very anxious that they should be comfortably established in
life. I have no children of my own, and those of my two brothers are
everything to me."

Mrs Dale had always considered it as a matter of course that Bernard
should be the squire's heir, an