had spoken with some show of kindness towards Bernard.  In answer to this, Mrs Dale had protested vehemently that she had no such wish, and Lily, who still held to her belief in Dr Crofts, was almost equally animated.  To them all, the idea that their uncle should in any way interfere in their own views of life, on the strength of the pecuniary assistance which they had received from him, was peculiarly distasteful.  But it was especially distasteful that he should presume to have even an opinion as to their disposition in marriage.  They declared to each other that their uncle could have no right to object to any marriage which either of them might contemplate as long as their mother should approve of it.  The poor old squire had been right in saying that he was regarded with suspicion.  He was so regarded.  The fault had certainly been his own, in having endeavoured to win the daughters without thinking it worth his while to win the mother.  The girls had unconsciously felt that the attempt was made, and had vigorously rebelled against it.  It had not been their fault that they had been brought to live in their uncle’s house, and made to ride on his ponies, and to eat partially of his bread.  They had so eaten, and so lived, and declared themselves to be grateful.  The squire was good in his way, and they recognised his goodness; but not on that account would they transfer to him one jot of the allegiance which as children they owed to their mother.  When she told them her tale, explaining to them the words which their uncle had spoken that morning, they expressed their regret that he should be so grieved; but they were strong in assurances to their mother that she had been sinned against, and was not sinning.

“Let us go at once,” said Bell.

“It is much easier said than done, my dear.”

“Of course it is, mamma; else we shouldn’t be here now.  What I mean is this,—­let us take some necessary first step at once.  It is clear that my uncle thinks that our remaining here should give him some right over us.  I do not say that he is wrong to think so.  Perhaps it is natural.  Perhaps, in accepting his kindness, we ought to submit ourselves to him.  If that be so, it is a conclusive reason for our going.”

“Could we not pay him rent for the house,” said Lily, “as Mrs Hearn does?  You would like to remain here, mamma, if you could do that?”

“But we could not do that, Lily.  We must choose for ourselves a smaller house than this, and one that is not burdened with the expense of a garden.  Even if we paid but a moderate rent for this place, we should not have the means of living here.”

“Not if we lived on toast and tea?” said Lily, laughing.

“But I should hardly wish you to live upon toast and tea; and indeed I fancy that I should get tired of such a diet myself.”

“Never, mamma,” said Lily.  “As for me, I confess to a longing after mutton chops; but I don’t think you would ever want such vulgar things.”