letter
to Amelia, and did go out to post it with his own hands,--much to
his mother's annoyance. But the letter would not get itself written
in that strong and appropriate language which had come to him as he
was roaming through the woods. It was a bald letter, and somewhat
cowardly withal.

DEAR AMELIA [the letter ran],

I have received both of yours; and did not answer the first
because I felt that there was a difficulty in expressing
what I wish to say; and now it will be better that you
should allow the subject to stand over till I am back in
town. I shall be there in ten days from this. I have been
quite well, and am so; but of course am much obliged by
your inquiries. I know you will think this very cold; but
when I tell you everything, you will agree with me that
it is best. If I were to marry, I know that we should be
unhappy, because we should have nothing to live on. If I
have ever said anything to deceive you, I beg your pardon
with all my heart;--but perhaps it will be better to let
the subject remain till we shall meet again in London.

Believe me to be

Your most sincere friend,

And I may say admirer,--[Oh, John Eames!]

JOHN EAMES.

CHAPTER XV

The Last Day

Last days are wretched days; and so are last moments wretched
moments. It is not the fact that the parting is coming which makes
these days and moments so wretched, but the feeling that something
special is expected from them, which something they always fail to
produce. Spasmodic periods of pleasure, of affection, or even of
study, seldom fail of disappointment when premeditated. When last
days are coming, they should be allowed to come and to glide away
without special notice or mention. And as for last moments, there
should be none such. Let them ever be ended, even before their
presence has been acknowledged.

But Lily Dale had not yet been taught these lessons by her world's
experience, and she expected that this sweetest cup of which she had
ever drank should go on being sweet--sweeter and still sweeter--as
long as she could press it to her lips. How the dregs had come to mix
themselves with the last drops we have already seen; and on that same
day,--on the Monday evening,--the bitter task still remained; for
Crosbie, as they walked about through the gardens in the evening,
found other subjects on which he thought it necessary to give her
sundry hints, intended for