‘Why should it now?’

’It has!  At least, it has gone further than ever anything did before, except Charlie Scott, that ridiculous boy at Beechcroft that William was so angry with, and who married somebody else.’

‘You don’t say that he has proposed to her?’

’Yes, he has—–­the man!  By a letter this morning, and I could see she expected it—–­not that that’s any wonder!’

‘But, my dear, she can’t possibly be thinking of it.’

’Well, I should have said it was impossible; but I see she has not made up her mind.  Poor dear Ada!  It is too bad to laugh; but she does like the having a real offer at last, and a great Italian castle laid at her feet.’

’But he isn’t a gentleman!  I don’t mean only his birth—–­and I know he is a good man really—–­but Jasper said he could feel he was not a gentleman by the way he fell on Richard White before his sister.’

‘I know!  I know!  I wonder if it would be for her happiness?’

‘Then she has not answered him?’

’No; or, rather, I left her going to write.  She won’t accept him certainly now; but I believe she is telling him that she must have time to consider and consult her family.’

’She must know pretty well what her family will say.  Fancy William!  Fancy Emily!  Fancy Reginald!’

’Yes, oh yes!  But Ada—–­I must say it—–­she does like to prolong the situation.’

‘It is not fair on the poor man.’

’Well, she will act as she chooses; but I think she really does want to see what amount of opposition—–­ No, not that, but of estrangement it would cause.’

‘Did you see the letter?’

’Yes; no doubt you will too.  I told her I should come to you, and she did not object.  I think she was glad to be saved broaching the subject, for she is half ashamed.’

’I should have thought she would have been as deeply offended at the presumption as poor Gillian was with the valentine.’

’Lily, my dear, forty-two is not all one with seventeen, especially when there’s an estate with an Italian countship attached to it!  Though I’m sure I’d rather marry Alexis than this man. He is a gentleman in grain!’

‘Oh, Jenny, you are very severe!’

’I’m afraid it is bitterness, Lily; so I rushed down to have it all out with you, and make up my mind what part to take.’

’It is very hard on you, my dear, after you have nursed and waited on her all these years.’

’It is the little titillation of vanity—–­exactly like the Ada of sixteen, nay, of six, that worries me, and makes me naughty,’ said Jane, dashing off a tear.  ’Oh, Lily! how could I have borne it if you had not come home!’

‘But what do you mean about the part to take?’

’Well, you see, Lily, I really do not know what I ought to do.  I want to clear my mind by talking to you.’

’I am afraid it would make a great difference to you in the matter of means.’