“There is that hope for us,” said Lily.  “Uncle Christopher asked him to come down when he gets his long leave of absence.  This is only a short sort of leave.  He is better off than poor Johnny Eames.  Johnny Eames only has a month, but Mr Crosbie has two months just whenever he likes it; and seems to be pretty much his own master all the year round besides.”

“And Uncle Christopher asked him to come down for the shooting in September,” said Bell.

“And though he didn’t say he’d come I think he meant it,” said Lily.  “There is that hope for us, mamma.”

“Then you’ll have to draw Apollo with a gun instead of a mallet.”

“That is the worst of it, mamma.  We shan’t see much of him or of Bernard either.  They wouldn’t let us go out into the woods as beaters, would they?”

“You’d make too much noise to be of any use.”

“Should I?  I thought the beaters had to shout at the birds.  I should get very tired of shouting at birds, so I think I’ll stay at home and look after my clothes.”

“I hope he will come, because Uncle Christopher seems to like him so much,” said Bell.

“I wonder whether a certain gentleman at Guestwick will like his coming,” said Lily.  And then, as soon as she had spoken the words, she looked at her sister, and saw that she had grieved her.

“Lily, you let your tongue run too fast,” said Mrs Dale.

“I didn’t mean anything, Bell,” said Lily.  “I beg your pardon.”

“It doesn’t signify,” said Bell.  “Only Lily says things without thinking.”  And then that conversation came to an end, and nothing more was said among them beyond what appertained to their toilet, and a few last words at parting.  But the two girls occupied the same room, and when their own door was closed upon them, Bell did allude to what had passed with some spirit.

“Lily, you promised me,” she said, “that you would not say anything more to me about Dr Crofts.”

“I know I did, and I was very wrong.  I beg your pardon, Bell; and I won’t do it again,—­not if I can help it.”

“Not help it, Lily!”

“But I’m sure I don’t know why I shouldn’t speak of him,—­only not in the way of laughing at you.  Of all the men I ever saw in my life I like him best.  And only that I love you better than I love myself I could find it in my heart to grudge you his—­”

“Lily, what did you promise just now?”

“Well; after to-night.  And I don’t know why you should turn against him.”

“I have never turned against him or for him.”

“There’s no turning about him.  He’d give his left hand if you’d only smile on him.  Or his right either,—­and that’s what I should like to see; so now you’ve heard it.”

“You know you are talking nonsense.”

“So I should like to see it.  And so would mamma too, I’m sure; though I never heard her say a word about him.  In my mind he’s the finest fellow I ever saw.  What’s Mr Apollo Crosbie to him?  And now, as it makes you unhappy, I’ll never say another word about him.”