“He won’t know much about me,” said Johnny; and even in speaking these few senseless words—­words which he uttered because it was necessary that he should say something—­the tone of his voice was altered.  He would have given the world to have been master of himself at this moment, but he felt that he was utterly vanquished.

“There is Lily coming across the lawn,” said Mrs Dale.

“Then I’d better go,” said Eames.  “Don’t say anything about it; pray don’t.”  And then, without waiting for another word, he escaped out of the drawing-room.

CHAPTER VI

Beautiful Days

I am well aware that I have not as yet given any description of Bell and Lilian Dale, and equally well aware that the longer the doing so is postponed the greater the difficulty becomes.  I wish it could be understood without any description that they were two pretty, fair-haired girls, of whom Bell was the tallest and the prettiest, whereas Lily was almost as pretty as her sister, and perhaps was more attractive.

They were fair-haired girls, very like each other, of whom I have before my mind’s eye a distinct portrait, which I fear I shall not be able to draw in any such manner as will make it distinct to others.  They were something below the usual height, being slight and slender in all their proportions.  Lily was the shorter of the two, but the difference was so trifling that it was hardly remembered unless the two were together.  And when I said that Bell was the prettier, I should, perhaps, have spoken more justly had I simply declared that her features were more regular than her sister’s.  The two girls were very fair, so that the soft tint of colour which relieved the whiteness of their complexion was rather acknowledged than distinctly seen.  It was there, telling its own tale of health, as its absence would have told a tale of present or coming sickness; and yet nobody could ever talk about the colour in their cheeks.  The hair of the two girls was so alike in hue and texture, that no one, not even their mother, could say that there was a difference.  It was not flaxen hair, and yet it was very light.  Nor did it approach to auburn; and yet there ran through it a golden tint that gave it a distinct brightness of its own.  But with Bell it was more plentiful than with Lily, and therefore Lily would always talk of her own scanty locks, and tell how beautiful were those belonging to her sister.  Nevertheless Lily’s head was quite as lovely as her sister’s; for its form was perfect, and the simple braids in which they both wore their hair did not require any great exuberance in quantity.  Their eyes were brightly blue; but Bell’s were long, and soft, and tender, often hardly daring to raise themselves to your face; while those of Lily were rounder, but brighter, and seldom kept by any want of courage from fixing themselves where they pleased.  And Lily’s face was perhaps less oval in its form,—­less perfectly