than to any other living being; yet it had come to that.  The grumpy old lord had now told him that that gift of money was to be his whether Lily Dale accepted him or no.  “Indeed, the thing’s done,” said the grumpy lord, pulling out from his pocket certain papers, “and you’ve got to receive the dividends as they become due.”  Then, when Johnny had expostulated,—­as, indeed, the circumstances had left him no alternative but to expostulate,—­the earl had roughly bade him hold his tongue, telling him that he would have to fetch Sir Raffle’s boots directly he got back to London.  So the conversation had quickly turned itself away to Sir Raffle, whom they had both ridiculed with much satisfaction.  “If he finds his way down here in September, Master Johnny, or in any other month either, you may fit my head with a foolscap.  Not remember, indeed!  Is it not wonderful that any man should make himself so mean a fool?” All this was thought over again, as Eames leaned upon the bridge.  He remembered every word, and remembered many other words,—­earlier words, spoken years ago, filling him with desolation as to the prospects of his life.  It had seemed that his friends had united in prophesying that the outlook into the world for him was hopeless, and that the earning of bread must be for ever beyond his power.  And now his lines had fallen to him in very pleasant places, and he was among those whom the world had determined to caress.  And yet, what would it all be if Lily would not share his happiness?  When he had carved that name on the rail, his love for Lily had been an idea.  It had now become a reality which might probably be full of pain.  If it were so,—­if such should be the result, of his wooing,—­would not those old dreamy days have been better than these—­the days of his success?

It was one o’clock by the time that he reached his mother’s house, and he found her and his sister in a troubled and embarrassed state.  “Of course you know, John,” said his mother, as soon as their first embraces were over, “that we are going to dine at the Manor this evening?” But he did not know it, neither the earl nor Lady Julia having said anything on the subject.  “Of course we are going,” said Mrs Eames, “and it was so very kind.  But I’ve never been out to such a house for so many years, John, and I do feel in such a twitter.  I dined there once, soon after we were married; but I never have been there since that.”

“It’s not the earl I mind, but Lady Julia,” said Mary Eames.

“She’s the most good-natured woman in the world,” said Johnny.

“Oh, dear; people say she is so cross!”

“That’s because people don’t know her.  If I was asked who is the kindest-hearted woman I know in the world, I think I should say Lady Julia De Guest.  I think I should.”

“Ah! but then they’re so fond of you,” said the admiring mother.  “You saved his lordship’s life,—­under Providence.”

“That’s all bosh, mother.  You ask Dr Crofts.  He knows them as well as I do.”