Lily, standing on the ladder, read the letter very attentively. The squire meanwhile stood below speaking a word or two to his sister-in-law and niece. No one could see Lily's face, as it was turned away towards the window, and it was still averted when she spoke. "It is out of the question that we should go, mamma;—that is, all of us."
"Why out of the question?" said the squire.
"A whole family!" said Mrs. Dale.
"That is just what they want," said the squire.
"I should like of all things to be left alone for a week," said Lily, "if mamma and Bell would go."
"That wouldn't do at all," said the squire. "Lady Julia specially wants you to be one of the party."
The thing had been badly managed altogether. The reference in Lady Julia's note to John Eames had explained to Lily the whole scheme at once, and had so opened her eyes that all the combined influence of the Dale and De Guest families could not have dragged her over to the Manor.
"Why not do?" said Lily. "It would be out of the question a whole family going in that way, but it would be very nice for Bell."
"No, it would not," said Bell.
"Don't be ungenerous about it, my dear," said the squire, turning to Bell; "Lady Julia means to be kind. But, my darling," and the squire turned again towards Lily, addressing her, as was his wont in these days, with an affection that was almost vexatious to her; "but, my darling, why should you not go? A change of scene like that will do you all the good in the world, just when you are getting well. Mary, tell the girls that they ought to go."
Mrs. Dale stood silent, again reading the note, and Lily came down from the ladder. When she reached the floor she went directly up to her uncle, and taking his hand turned him round with herself towards one of the windows, so that they stood with their backs to the room. "Uncle," she said, "do not be angry with me. I can't go;" and then she put up her face to kiss him.
He stooped and kissed her and still held her hand. He looked into her face and read it all. He knew well, now, why she could not go; or, rather, why she herself thought that she could not go. "Cannot you, my darling?" he said.
"No, uncle. It is very kind,—very kind; but I cannot go. I am not fit to go anywhere."
