at in advance of them.

"I never snub anybody," said Crosbie, petulantly; "that is unless
they have absolutely deserved snubbing."

"And have I deserved it? Because I seem to have got it," said Lily.

"Nonsense, Lily. I never snubbed you yet, and I don't think it likely
that I shall begin. But you ought not to accuse me of not being civil
to your friends. In the first place I am as civil to them as my
nature will allow me to be. And, in the second place--"

"Well; in the second place--?"

"I am not quite sure that you are very wise to encourage that young
man's friendship just at present."

"That means, I suppose, that I am very wrong to do so?"

"No, dearest, it does not mean that. If I meant so I would tell
you so honestly. I mean just what I say. There can, I suppose, be
no doubt that he has filled himself with some kind of romantic
attachment for you,--a foolish kind of love which I don't suppose he
ever expected to gratify, but the idea of which lends a sort of grace
to his life. When he meets some young woman fit to be his wife he
will forget all about it, but till then he will go about fancying
himself a despairing lover. And then such a young man as John Eames
is very apt to talk of his fancies."

"I don't believe for a moment that he would mention my name to any
one."

"But, Lily, perhaps I may know more of young men than you do."

"Yes, of course you do."

"And I can assure you that they are generally too well inclined to
make free with the names of girls whom they think that they like. You
must not be surprised if I am unwilling that any man should make free
with your name."

After this Lily was silent for a minute or two. She felt that an
injustice was being done to her and she was not inclined to put up
with it, but she could not quite see where the injustice lay. A great
deal was owing from her to Crosbie. In very much she was bound to
yield to him, and she was anxious to do on his behalf even more than
her duty. But yet she had a strong conviction that it would not be
well that she should give way to him in everything. She wished to
think as he thought as far as possible, but she could not say that
she agreed with him when she knew that she differed from him. John
Eames was an old friend whom she could not abandon, and so much at
the present time she felt herself obliged to say.

"But, Adolphus--"

"Well, dearest?"

"You would not wish me to be unkind to so very old a friend as John
E