There was something in the tone of Mrs Dale’s voice, as she desired her daughter to come up to the house, and declared that her budget of news should be opened there, which at once silenced Lily’s assumed pleasantry.  Her mother had been away fully two hours, during which Lily had still continued her walk round the garden, till at last she had become impatient for her mother’s footstep.  Something serious must have been said between her uncle and her mother during those long two hours.  The interviews to which Mrs Dale was occasionally summoned at the Great House did not usually exceed twenty minutes, and the upshot would be communicated to the girls in a turn or two round the garden; but in the present instance Mrs Dale positively declined to speak till she was seated within the house.

“Did he come over on purpose to see you, mamma?”

“Yes, my dear, I believe so.  He wished to see you, too; but I asked his permission to postpone that till after I had talked to you.”

“To see me, mamma?  About what?”

“To kiss you, and bid you love him; solely for that.  He has not a word to say to you that will vex you.”

“Then I will kiss him, and love him, too.”

“Yes, you will when I have told you all.  I have promised him solemnly to give up all idea of going to Guestwick.  So that is over.”

“Oh, oh!  And we may begin to unpack at once?  What an episode in one’s life!”

“We may certainly unpack, for I have pledged myself to him; and he is to go into Guestwick himself and arrange about the lodgings.”

“Does Hopkins know it?”

“I should think not yet.”

“Nor Mrs Boyce!  Mamma, I don’t believe I shall be able to survive this next week.  We shall look such fools!  I’ll tell you what we’ll do;—­it will be the only comfort I can have;—­we’ll go to work and get everything back into its place before Bell comes home, so as to surprise her.”

“What! in two days?”

“Why not?  I’ll make Hopkins come and help, and then he’ll not be so bad.  I’ll begin at once and go to the blankets and beds, because I can undo them myself.”

“But I haven’t half told you all; and, indeed, I don’t know how to make you understand what passed between us.  He is very unhappy about Bernard; Bernard has determined to go abroad, and may be away for years.”

“One can hardly blame a man for following up his profession.”

“There was no blaming.  He only said that it was very sad for him that, in his old age, he should be left alone.  This was before there was any talk about our remaining.  Indeed he seemed determined not to ask that again as a favour.  I could see that in his eye, and I understood it from his tone.  He went on to speak of you and Bell, saying how well he loved you both; but that, unfortunately, his hopes regarding you had not been fulfilled.”

“Ah, but he shouldn’t have had hopes of that sort.”