red, also, how prettily Lily had yielded to him. "Only do not
let it be too soon," she had said. Now he must unsay what he had then
said; he must plead against his own pleadings, and explain to her
that he desired to postpone the marriage rather than to hasten it,--a
task which, I presume, must always be an unpleasant one for any man
engaged to be married. "I might as well do it at once," he said to
himself, as he bobbed his head forward into his hands by way of
returning thanks for the termination of Mr Boyce's sermon.

As he had only three days left, it was certainly as well that he
should do this at once. Seeing that Lily had no fortune, she could
not in justice complain of a prolonged engagement. That was the
argument which he used in his own mind. But he as often told himself
that she would have very great ground of complaint if she were left
for a day unnecessarily in doubt as to this matter. Why had he rashly
spoken those hasty words to her in his love, betraying himself into
all manner of scrapes, as a schoolboy might do, or such a one as
Johnny Eames? What an ass he had been not to have remembered himself
and to have been collected,--not to have bethought himself on the
occasion of all that might be due to Adolphus Crosbie! And then
the idea came upon him whether he had not altogether made himself
an ass in this matter. And as he gave his arm to Lily outside the
church-door, he shrugged his shoulders while making that reflection.
"It is too late now," he said to himself; and than turned round
and made some sweet little loving speech to her. Adolphus Crosbie
was a clever man; and he meant also to be a true man,--if only the
temptations to falsehood might not be too great for him.

"Lily," he said to her, "will you walk in the fields after lunch?"

Walk in the fields with him! Of course she would. There were only
three days left, and would she not give up to him every moment of her
time, if he would accept of all her moments? And then they lunched at
the Small House, Mrs Dale having promised to join the dinner-party
at the squire's table. The squire did not eat any lunch, excusing
himself on the plea that lunch in itself was a bad thing. "He can eat
lunch at his own house," Mrs Dale afterwards said to Bell. "And I've
often seen him take a glass of sherry." While thinking of this, Mrs
Dale made her own dinner. If her brother-in-law would not eat at her
board, neither would she eat at his.

And then in a few mi