Then, by degrees, his mind turned away from Amelia Roper to Lily Dale, not giving him a prospect much more replete with enjoyment than that other one.  He had said that he would call at Allington before he returned to town, and he was now redeeming his promise.  But he did not know why he should go there.  He felt that he should sit silent and abashed in Mrs Dale’s drawing-room, confessing by his demeanour that secret which it behoved him now to hide from every one.  He could not talk easily before Lily, nor could he speak to her of the only subject which would occupy his thoughts when in her presence.  If indeed, he might find her alone—­ But, perhaps that might be worse for him than any other condition.

When he was shown into the drawing-room there was nobody there.  “They were here a minute ago, all three,” said the servant girl.  “If you’ll walk down the garden, Mr John, you’ll be sure to find some of ’em.”  So John Eames, with a little hesitation, walked down the garden.

First of all he went the whole way round the walks, meeting nobody.  Then he crossed the lawn, returning again to the farther end; and there, emerging from the little path which led from the Great House, he encountered Lily alone.  “Oh, John,” she said, “how d’ye do?  I’m afraid you did not find anybody in the house.  Mamma and Bell are with Hopkins, away in the large kitchen-garden.”

“I’ve just come over,” said Eames, “because I promised.  I said I’d come before I went back to London.”

“And they’ll be very glad to see you, and so am I. Shall we go after them into the other grounds?  But perhaps you walked over and are tired.”

“I did walk,” said Eames; “not that I am very tired.”  But in truth he did not wish to go after Mrs Dale, though he was altogether at a loss as to what he would say to Lily while remaining with her.  He had fancied that he would like to have some opportunity of speaking to her alone before he went away,—­of making some special use of the last interview which he should have with her before she became a married woman.  But now the opportunity was there, and he hardly dared to avail himself of it.

“You’ll stay and dine with us,” said Lily.

“No, I’ll not do that, for I especially told my mother that I would be back.”

“I’m sure it was very good of you to walk so far to see us.  If you really are not tired, I think we will go to mamma, as she would be very sorry to miss you.”

This she said, remembering at the moment what had been Crosbie’s injunctions to her about John Eames.  But John had resolved that he would say those words which he had come to speak, and that, as Lily was there with him, he would avail himself of the chance which fortune had given him.

“I don’t think I’ll go into the squire’s garden,” he said.

“Uncle Christopher is not there.  He is about the farm somewhere.”

“If you don’t mind, Lily, I think I’ll stay here.  I suppose they’ll be back soon.  Of course I should like to see them before I go away to London.  But, Lily, I came over now chiefly to see you.  It was you who asked me to promise.”