‘It’s not cold at all,’ said the squire.  ’It’s more like spring than any morning we’ve had yet.  I’ve been sitting without a fire.’

’You won’t catch us without one for the next two months; will he, mamma?  You have got a letter, uncle.  Is it for us to see?’

’Well—­yes; I’ve brought it down to show you.  Mary, what do you think is going to happen?’

A terrible idea occurred to Mrs Dale at that moment, but she was much too wise to give it expression.  Could it be possible that the squire was going to make a fool of himself and get married?  ’I am very bad at guessing,’ said Mrs Dale.  ‘You had better tell us.’

‘Bernard is going to be married,’ said Lily.

‘How did you know?’ said the squire.

‘I didn’t know.  I only guessed.’

‘Then you’ve guessed right,’ said the squire, a little annoyed at having his news thus taken out of his mouth.

‘I am so glad,’ said Mrs Dale; ’and I know from your manner that you like the match.’

’Well—­yes.  I don’t know the young lady, but I think that upon the whole I do like it.  It’s quite time, you know, that he got married.’

‘He’s not thirty yet,’ said Mrs Dale.

‘He will be in a month or two.’

‘And who is it, uncle?’

‘Well;—­as you’re so good at guessing, I suppose you can guess that?’

‘It’s not that Miss Partridge he used to talk about?’

’No; it’s not Miss Partridge—­I’m glad to say.  I don’t believe that the Partridges have a shilling among them.’

‘Then I suppose it’s an heiress,’ said Mrs Dale.

’No; not an heiress; but she will have some money of her own.  And she had connexions in Barsetshire, which makes it pleasant.’

‘Connexions in Barsetshire!  Who can it be?’ said Lily.

‘Her name is Emily Dunstable,’ said the squire, ’and she is the niece of Miss Dunstable who married Dr Thorne and who lives at Chaldicotes.’

‘She was the woman who had millions upon millions,’ said Lily, ’and all got by selling ointment.’

‘Never mind how it was got,’ said the squire angrily.  ’Miss Dunstable married most respectably, and has always made a most excellent use of her money.’

‘And will Bernard’s wife have all her fortune?’ asked Lily.

’She will have twenty thousand pounds the day she marries, and I suppose that will be all.’

‘And quite enough, too,’ said Mrs Dale.

’It seems that old Mr Dunstable, as he was called, who, as Lily says, sold the ointment, quarrelled with his son or with his son’s widow, and left nothing either to her or to her child.  The mother is dead, and the aunt, Dr Thorne’s wife, has always provided for the child.  That’s how it is, and Bernard is going to marry her.  They are to be married at Chaldicotes in May.’

‘I am delighted to hear it,’ said Mrs Dale.

‘I’ve known Dr Thorne for the last forty years;’ and the squire now spoke in a low melancholy tone.  ’I’ve written to him to say that the young people shall have the old place up there to themselves if they like it.’