"Dearest Adolphus" on the paper before her, she was startled with
their significance. "And four months ago I had never even heard of
him," she said to herself, almost with awe. And now he was more to
her, and nearer to her, than even was her sister or her mother! She
recollected how she had laughed at him behind his back, and called
him a swell on the first day of his coming to the Small House, and
how, also, she had striven, in her innocent way, to look her best
when called upon to go out and walk with the stranger from London.
He was no longer a stranger now, but her own dearest friend.

She had put down her pen that she might think of all this--by no
means for the first time--and then resumed it with a sudden start as
though fearing that the postman might be in the village before her
letter was finished. "Dearest Adolphus, I need not tell you how
delighted I was when your letter was brought to me this morning." But
I will not repeat the whole of her letter here. She had no incident
to relate, none even so interesting as that of Mr Crosbie's encounter
with Mr Harding at Barchester. She had met no Lady Dumbello, and had
no counterpart to Lady Alexandrina, of whom, as a friend, she could
say a word in praise. John Eames's name she did not mention, knowing
that John Eames was not a favourite with Mr Crosbie; nor had she
anything to say of John Eames, that had not been already said. He
had, indeed, promised to come over to Allington; but this visit had
not been made when Lily wrote her first letter to Crosbie. It was a
sweet, good, honest love-letter, full of assurances of unalterable
affection and unlimited confidence, indulging in a little quiet fun
as to the grandees of Courcy Castle, and ending with a promise that
she would be happy and contented if she might receive his letters
constantly, and live with the hope of seeing him at Christmas.

"I am in time, Mrs Crump, am I not?" she said, as she walked into the
post-office.

"Of course you be,--for the next half-hour. T' postman he bain't
stirred from t' ale'us yet. Just put it into t' box wull ye?"

"But you won't leave it there?"

"Leave it there! Did you ever hear the like of that? If you're
afeared to put it in, you can take it away; that's all about it,
Miss Lily." And then Mrs Crump turned away to her avocations at the
washing-tub. Mrs Crump had a bad temper, but perhaps she had some
excuse. A separate call was made upon her time with reference to
almost ev