Lily Dale after those few words which she said on the first day of his visit, and seemed perfectly willing to regard his doings at Allington as the occupation natural to a young man in such a position.  He had been seduced down to a dull country house, and had, as a matter of course, taken to such amusements as the place afforded.  He had shot the partridges and made love to the young lady, taking those little recreations as compensation for the tedium of the squire’s society.  Perhaps he had gone a little too far with the young lady; but then no one knew better than the countess how difficult it is for a young man to go far enough without going too far.  It was not her business to make herself a censor on a young man’s conduct.  The blame, no doubt, rested quite as much with Miss Dale as with him.  She was quite sorry that any young lady should be disappointed; but if girls will be imprudent, and set their caps at men above their mark, they must encounter disappointment.  With such language did Lady de Courcy speak of the affair among her daughters, and her daughters altogether agreed with her that it was out of the question that Mr Crosbie should marry Lily Dale.  From Alexandrina he encountered during the week none of that raillery which he had expected.  He had promised to explain to her before he left the castle all the circumstances of his acquaintance with Lily, and she at last showed herself determined to demand the fulfilment of this promise; but, previous to that, she said nothing to manifest either offence or a lessened friendship.  And I regret to say, that in the intercourse which had taken place between them, that friendship was by no means less tender that it had been in London.

“And when will you tell me what you promised?” she asked him one afternoon, speaking in a low voice, as they were standing together at the window of the billiard-room, in that idle half-hour which always occurs before the necessity for dinner preparation has come.  She had been riding and was still in her habit, and he had returned from shooting.  She knew that she looked more than ordinarily well in her tall straight hat and riding gear, and was wont to hang about the house, walking skilfully with her upheld drapery, during this period of the day.  It was dusk, but not dark, and there was no artificial light in the billiard-room.  There had been some pretence of knocking about the balls, but it had been only pretence.  “Even Diana,” she had said, “could not have played billiards in a habit.”  Then she had put down her mace, and they had stood talking together in the recess of a large bow-window.

“And what did I promise?” said Crosbie.

“You know well enough.  Not that it is a matter of any special interest to me; only, as you undertook to promise, of course my curiosity has been raised.”

“If it be of no special interest” said Crosbie, “you will not object to absolve me from my promise.”

“That is just like you,” she said.  “And how false you men always are.  You made up your mind to buy my silence on a distasteful subject by pretending to offer me your future confidence; and now you tell me that you do not mean to confide in me.”