‘No,’ said Alethea.  ’I walked here with Marianne, and finding there were visitors in the drawing-room we went to Ada, and she told me where to find you.  I had something to tell you—­but perhaps you know already.’

The colour on her cheek recalled all Lily’s fears, and to hear the news from herself was an unexpected trial.  She felt as if what she had said justified Emily’s reproach, and turning away her head, replied, ‘Yes, I know.’

Alethea was a little hurt by her coldness, but she ascribed it to dejection and embarrassment, and blamed herself for hurrying on what she had to tell without sufficient regard for Lily’s distress.  There was an awkward pause, which Alethea broke, by saying, ’Your brother thought you would like to hear it from me.’

‘My brother!’ cried Lily, with a most sudden change of tone.  ’William?  Oh, Alethea! dearest Alethea; I beg your pardon.  They almost made me believe it was papa.  Oh!  I am so very glad!’

Alethea could not help laughing, and Lily joined her heartily.  It was one of the brightest hours of her life, as she sat with her hand in her friend’s, pouring out her eager expressions of delight and affection.  All her troubles were forgotten—­how should they not, when Alethea was to be her sister!  It seemed as if but a few minutes had passed, when the sound of the great clock warned Alethea that it was time to return to Broomhill, and she asked Lilias to walk back with her.  After summoning Marianne, they set out through the garden, where, on being joined by William, Lily thought it expedient to betake herself to Marianne, who was but too glad to be able freely to communicate many interesting particulars.  At Broomhill she had a very enjoyable talk with Mrs. Weston, but her chief delight was in her walk home with her brother.  She was high in his favour, as Alethea’s chief friend.  Though usually reserved, he was now open, and Lily wondered to find herself honoured with confidence.  His attachment had begun in very early days, when first he knew the Westons in Brighton.  Harry’s death had suddenly called him away, and a few guarded expressions of his wishes in the course of the next winter had been cut short by his father.  He then went to Canada, and had had no opportunity of renewing his acquaintance till the last winter, when, on coming home, to his great joy and surprise he found the Westons on the most intimate terms with his family.

He then spoke to his father, who wished him to take a little more time for consideration, and he had accordingly waited till the summer.  Lily longed to know his plans for the future, and presently he went on to say that his father wished him to leave the army, live at home, and let Alethea be the head of the household.

’Oh, William! it is perfect.  There is an end of all our troubles.  It is as if a great black curtain was drawn up.’

‘They say such plans never succeed,’ said William; ’but we mean to prove the contrary.’