She knew that it was very difficult. She declared to herself over and over that he had come too soon,—that the attempt had been made too quickly after that other shipwreck. How was it possible that the ship should put to sea again at once, with all her timbers so rudely strained? And yet, now that the attempt had been made, now that Eames had uttered his request and been sent away with an answer, she felt that she must at once speak to Lily on the subject, if ever she were to speak upon it. She thought that she understood her child and all her feelings. She recognised the violence of the shock which must be encountered before Lily could be brought to acknowledge such a change in her heart. But if the thing could be done, Lily would be a happy woman. When once done it would be in all respects a blessing. And if it were not done, might not Lily's life be blank, lonely, and loveless to the end? Yet when Lily came down in the evening, with some light, half-joking word on her lips, as was usual to her, Mrs Dale was still afraid to venture upon her task.
'I suppose, mamma, we may consider it as a settled thing that everything must be again unpacked, and that the lodging scheme will be given up.'
'I don't know that, my dear.'
'Oh, but I do—after what you said just now. What geese everybody will think us!'
'I shouldn't care a bit for that, if we didn't think ourselves geese, or if your uncle did not think us so.'
'I believe he would think we were swans. If I had ever thought he would be so much in earnest about it, or that he would ever have cared about our being here, I would never have voted for going. But he is so strange. He is affectionate when he ought to be angry, and ill-natured when he ought to be gentle and kind.'
'He has, at any rate, given us reason to feel sure of his affection.'
'For us girls, I never doubted it. But, mamma, I don't think I could face Mrs Boyce. Mrs Hearn and Mrs Crump would be very bad, and Hopkins would come down upon us terribly when he found that we had given way. But Mrs Boyce would be worse than any of them. Can't you fancy the tone of her congratulations?'
'I think I should survive Mrs Boyce.'
'Ah, yes; because we should have to go and tell her. I know your cowardice of old, mamma; don't I? And Bell wouldn't care a bit, because of her lover. Mrs Boyce will be nothing to her. It is I that must bear it all. Well, I don't mind; I'll vote for staying if you will promise to be happy here. Oh, mamma, I'll vote for anything if you will be happy.'
'And will you be happy?'
'Yes, as happy as the day is long. Only I know we shall never see Bell. People never do see each other when they live just at that distance. It's too near for long visits, and too far for short visits. I'll tell you what; we might make arrangements each to walk half-way, and meet at the corner of Lord De Guest's wood. I wonder whether they'd let us put up a seat there. I think we might have a little house and carry sandwiches and a bottle of beer. Couldn't we see something of each other in that way?'
Thus it came to be the fixed idea of both of them that they would abandon their plan of migrating to Guestwick, and on this subject they continued to talk over their tea-table; but on that evening Mrs Dale ventured to say nothing about John Eames.
But they did not even yet dare to commence the work of reconstructing their old home. Bell must come back before they would do that, and the express assent of the squire must be formally obtained. Mrs Dale must, in a degree, acknowledge herself to have been wrong, and ask to be forgiven for her contumacy.
'I suppose the three of us had better go up in sackcloth, and throw ashes on our foreheads as we meet Hopkins in the garden,' said Lily, 'and then I know he'll heap coals of fire on our heads by sending us an early dish of peas. And Dingles would bring us in a pheasant, only that pheasants don't grow in May.'
'If the sackcloth doesn't take an unpleasanter shape than that, I shan't mind it.'
'That's because you've got no delicate feelings. And then Uncle Christopher's gratitude!'
'Ah! I shall feel that.'
'But, mamma, we'll wait till Bell comes home. She shall decide. She is going away, and therefore she'll be free from prejudice. If uncle offers to paint the house,—and I know he will,—then I shall be humbled to the dust.'
But yet Mrs Dale had said nothing on the subject which was nearest to her heart. When Lily in pleasantry had accused her of cowardice, her mind had instantly gone off to that other matter, and she had told herself that she was a coward. Why should she be afraid of offering her counsel to her own child? It seemed to her as though she had neglected some duty in allowing Crosbie's conduct to have passed away
