‘Jacob was not in such a hurry when he wished for Rachel.’

’That was all very well for an old patriarch who had seven or eight hundred years to live.’

’My dear John, you forget your Bible.  Jacob did not live half as long as that.’

’He lived long enough, and slowly enough, to be able to wait fourteen years;—­and then he had something to comfort him in the meantime.  And after all, Lady Julia, it’s more than seven years since I first thought Lily was the prettiest girl I ever saw.’

‘How old are you now?’ ‘Twenty-seven—­and she’s twenty-four.’

‘You’ve time enough yet, if you’ll only be patient.’

’I’ll be patient for tomorrow, Lady Julia, but never again.  Not that I mean to quarrel with her.  I’m not such a fool as to quarrel with a girl because she can’t like me.  I know how it all is.  If that scoundrel had not come across my path just when he did—­in that very nick of time, all might have been right betwixt her and me.  I couldn’t have offered to marry her before, when I hadn’t as much income as would have found her bread-and-butter.  And then, just as better times came to me, he stepped in!  I wonder whether it will be expected of me that I should forgive him?’

‘As far as that goes, you have no right to be angry with him.’

‘But I am—­all the same.’

‘And so was I—­but not for stepping in, as you call it.’

’You and I are different, Lady Julia.  I was angry with him for stepping in; but I couldn’t show it.  Then he stepped out, and I did manage to show it.  And now I shouldn’t wonder if he doesn’t step in again.  After all, why should he have such a power?  It was simply the nick of time which gave it to him.’  That John Eames should be able to find some consolation in this consideration is devoutly to be hoped by us all.

There was nothing said about Lily Dale the next morning at breakfast.  Lady Julia observed that John was dressed a little more neatly than usual;—­though the change was not such as to have called for her special observation, had she not known the business on which he was intent.

‘You have nothing to send to the Dales?’ he said, as he got up from the table.

‘Nothing but my love, Johnny.’

‘No worsted embroidery work—­or a pot of special jam for the squire?’

’No, sir, nothing; though I should like to make you carry a pair of panniers, if I could.’

‘They would become me well,’ said Johnny, ’for I am going on an ass’s errand.’  Then, without waiting for the word of affection which was on the old woman’s lips, he got himself out of the room, and started on his journey.