as a favour?"

"No," said Johnny; "I shouldn't like that. But I'll see to-morrow,
and then I'll let you know. I can go down by the mail train on
Saturday, at any rate."

"That won't be comfortable. See and come with me if you can. Now,
good-night, my dear fellow, and remember this,--when I say a thing
I mean it. I think I may boast that I never yet went back from my
word."

The earl as he spoke gave his left hand to his guest, and looking
somewhat grandly up over the young man's head, he tapped his own
breast thrice with his right hand. As he went through the little
scene, John Eames felt that he was every inch an earl.

"I don't know what to say to you, my lord."

"Say nothing,--not a word more to me. But say to yourself that faint
heart never won fair lady. Good-night, my dear boy, good-night. I
dine out to-morrow, but you can call and let me know at about six."

Eames then left the room without another word, and walked out into
the cold air of Jermyn Street. The moon was clear and bright, and the
pavement in the shining light seemed to be as clean as a lady's hand.
All the world was altered to him since he had entered Pawkins's
Hotel. Was it then possible that Lily Dale might even yet become his
wife? Could it be true that he, even now, was in a position to go
boldly to the Squire of Allington, and tell him what were his views
with reference to Lily? And how far would he be justified in taking
the earl at his word? Some incredible amount of wealth would be
required before he could marry Lily Dale. Two or three hundred pounds
a year at the very least! The earl could not mean him to understand
that any such sum as that would be made up with such an object!
Nevertheless he resolved as he walked home to Burton Crescent that he
would go down to Guestwick, and that he would obey the earl's behest.
As regarded Lily herself he felt that nothing could be said to her
for many a long day as yet.

"Oh, John, how late you are!" said Amelia, slipping out from the back
parlour as he let himself in with his latch-key.

"Yes, I am;--very late," said John, taking his candle, and passing
her by on the stairs without another word.

CHAPTER XXXIII

"The Time Will Come"

"Did you hear that young Eames is staying at Guestwick Manor?"

As these were the first words which the squire spoke to Mrs Dale
as they walked together up to the Great House, after church, on
Christmas Day, it was clear enough that the tidings of