“It will soon pass away,” she said.

“I will accept it at any rate without complaint.  But as to my uncle’s feelings, it is open to me to speak, and to you, I should think, to listen without indifference.  He has been kind to us both, and loves us two above any other living beings.  It’s not surprising that he should wish to see us married, and it will not be surprising if your refusal should be a great blow to him.”

“I shall be sorry—­very sorry.”

“I also shall be sorry.  I am now speaking of him.  He has set his heart upon it; and as he has but few wishes, few desires, so is he the more constant in those which he expresses.  When he knows this, I fear that we shall find him very stern.”

“Then he will be unjust.”

“No; he will not be unjust.  He is always a just man.  But he will be unhappy, and will, I fear, make others unhappy.  Dear Bell, may not this thing remain for a while unsettled?  You will not find that I take advantage of your goodness.  I will not intrude it on you again,—­say for a fortnight,—­or till Crosbie shall be gone.”

“No, no, no,” said Bell.

“Why are you so eager in your noes?  There can be no danger in such delay.  I will not press you,—­and you can let my uncle think that you have at least taken time for consideration.”

“There are things as to which one is bound to answer at once.  If I doubted myself, I would let you persuade me.  But I do not doubt myself, and I should be wrong to keep you in suspense.  Dear, dearest Bernard, it cannot be; and as it cannot he, you, as my brother, would bid me say so clearly.  It cannot be.”

As she made this last assurance, they heard the steps of Lily and her lover close to them, and they both felt that it would be well that their intercourse should thus be brought to a close.  Neither had known how to get up and leave the place, and yet each had felt that nothing further could then be said.

“Did you ever see anything so sweet and affectionate and romantic?” said Lily, standing over them and looking at them.  “And all the while we have been so practical and worldly.  Do you know, Bell, that Adolphus seems to think we can’t very well keep pigs in London.  It makes me so unhappy.”

“It does seem a pity,” said Crosbie, “for Lily seems to know all about pigs.”

“Of course I do.  I haven’t lived in the country all my life for nothing.  Oh, Bernard, I should so like to see you rolled down into the bottom of the ha-ha.  Just remain there, and we’ll do it between us.”

Whereupon Bernard got up, as did Bell also, and they all went in to tea.

CHAPTER IX

Mrs Dale’s Little Party

The next day was the day of the party.  Not a word more was said on that evening between Bell and her cousin, at least, not a word more of any peculiar note; and when Crosbie suggested to his friend on the following morning that they should both step down and see how the preparations were getting on at the Small House, Bernard declined.