it might be as well that that residence should be fitted to the wants of two persons instead of three.  So they talked about chairs and tables, carpets and kitchens, in a most unromantic, homely, useful manner!  A considerable portion of the furniture in the house they were now about to leave belonged to the squire,—­or to the house rather, as they were in the habit of saying.  The older and more solid things,—­articles of household stuff that stand the wear of half a century,—­had been in the Small House when they came to it.  There was, therefore, a question of buying new furniture for a house in Guestwick,—­a question not devoid of importance to the possessor of so moderate an income as that owned by Mrs Dale.  In the first month or two they were to live in lodgings, and their goods were to be stored in some friendly warehouse.  Under such circumstances would it not be well that Bell’s marriage should be so arranged that the lodging question might not be in any degree complicated by her necessities?  This was the last suggestion made by Dr Crofts, induced no doubt by the great encouragement he had received.

“That would be hardly possible,” said Mrs Dale.  “It only wants three weeks;—­and with the house in such a condition!”

“James is joking,” said Bell.

“I was not joking at all,” said the doctor.

“Why not send for Mr Boyce, and carry her off at once on a pillion behind you?” said Lily.  “It’s just the sort of thing for primitive people to do, like you and Bell.  All the same, Bell, I do wish you could have been married from this house.”

“I don’t think it will make much difference,” said Bell.

“Only if you would have waited till summer we would have had such a nice party on the lawn.  It sounds so ugly, being married from lodgings; doesn’t it, mamma?”

“It doesn’t sound at all ugly to me,” said Bell.

“I shall always call you Dame Commonplace when you’re married,” said Lily.

Then they had tea, and after tea Dr Crofts got on his horse and rode back to Guestwick.

“Now may I talk about him?” said Lily, as soon as the door was closed behind his back.

“No; you may not.”

“As if I hadn’t known it all along!  And wasn’t it hard to bear that you should have scolded me with such pertinacious austerity, and that I wasn’t to say a word in answer!”

“I don’t remember the austerity,” said Mrs Dale.

“Nor yet Lily’s silence,” said Bell.

“But it’s all settled now,” said Lily, “and I’m downright happy.  I never felt more satisfaction,—­never, Bell!”

“Nor did I,” said her mother; “I may truly say that I thank God for this good thing.”

CHAPTER LI

John Eames Does Things Which He Ought Not to Have Done