son-in-law,—to be well-beloved. Her quiet, beautiful Bell had seemed to like the man; and he had certainly done more than seem to like her. But now, for some weeks past, this hope, or rather this idea, had faded away. Mrs Dale had never questioned her daughter on the matter; she was not a woman prone to put such questions. But during the month or two last past, she had seen with regret that Bell looked almost coldly on the man whom her mother favoured.
In thinking of all this the long evening passed away, and at eleven o'clock she heard the coming steps across the garden. The young men had, of course, accompanied the girls home; and as she stepped out from the still open window of her own drawing-room, she saw them all on the centre of the lawn before her.
'There's mamma,' said Lily. 'Mamma, Mr Crosbie wants to play croquet by moonlight.'
'I don't think there is light enough for that,' said Mrs Dale.
'There is light enough for him,' said Lily, 'for he plays quite independently of the hoops; don't you, Mr Crosbie?'
'There's very pretty croquet light, I should say,' said Mr Crosbie, looking up at the bright moon; 'and then it is so stupid going to bed.'
'Yes, it is stupid going to bed,' said Lily; 'but people in the country are stupid, you know. Billiards, that you can play all night by gas, is much better, isn't it?'
'Your arrows fall terribly astray there, Miss Dale, for I never touch a cue; you should talk to your cousin about billiards.'
'Is Bernard a great billiard player?' asked Bell.
'Well, I do play now and again; about as well as Crosbie does croquet. Come, Crosbie, we'll go home and smoke a cigar.'
'Yes,' said Lily; 'and then, you know, we stupid people can go to bed. Mamma, I wish you had a little smoking-room here for us. I don't like being considered stupid.' And then they parted,—the ladies going into the house, and the two men returning across the lawn.
'Lily, my love,' said Mrs Dale, when they were all together in her bedroom, 'it seems to me that you are very hard upon Mr Crosbie.'
'She has been going on like that all the evening,' said Bell.
'I'm sure we are very good friends,' said Lily.
'Oh, very!' said Bell.
'Now, Bell, you're jealous; you know you are.' And then, seeing that her sister was in some slight degree vexed, she went up to her and kissed her. 'She shan't be called jealous; shall she, mamma?'
'I don't think she deserves it,' said Mrs Dale.
'Now, you don't mean to say that you think I meant anything?' said Lily. 'As if I cared a buttercup about Mr Crosbie.'
'Or I either, Lily.'
'Of course you don't. But I do care for him very much, mamma. He is such a duck of an Apollo. I shall always call him Apollo; Phoebus Apollo! And when I draw his picture he shall have a mallet in his hand instead of a bow. Upon my word I am very much obliged to Bernard for bringing him down here; and I do wish he was not going away the day after to-morrow.'
'The day after to-morrow!' said Mrs Dale. 'It was hardly worth coming for two days.'
'No, it wasn't,—disturbing us all in our quiet little ways just for such a spell as that,—not giving one time even to count his rays.'
'But he says he shall perhaps come again,' said Bell.
'There is that hope for us,' said Lily. 'Uncle Christopher asked him to come down when he gets his long leave of absence. This is only a short sort of leave. He is better off than poor Johnny Eames. Johnny Eames only has a month, but Mr Crosbie has two months just whenever he likes it; and seems to be pretty much his own master all the year round besides.'
'And Uncle Christopher asked him to come down for the shooting in September,' said Bell.
'And though he didn't say he'd come I think he meant it,' said Lily. 'There is that hope for us, mamma.'
'Then you'll have to draw Apollo with a gun instead of a mallet.'
'That is the worst of it, mamma. We shan't see much of him or of Bernard either. They wouldn't let us go out into the woods as beaters, would they?'
'You'd make too much noise to be of any use.'
