"You'll never have another opportunity of riding with Emily Dunstable," said the bride elect;—"at least I hope not."
"Even under those circumstances I must refuse, though I would give a guinea to be with you. John Eames is coming here to say good-by."
"Oh; then indeed you must not come with us. Lily, what will you say to him?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, Lily, think of it."
"I have thought of it. I have thought of nothing else. I am tired of thinking of it. It is not good to think of anything so much. What does it matter?"
"It is very good to have some one to love one better than all the world besides."
"I have some one," said Lily, thinking of her mother, but not caring to descend again to the mawkish weakness of talking about her.
"Yes; but some one to be always with you, to do everything for you, to be your very own."
"It is all very well for you," said Lily, "and I think that Bernard is the luckiest fellow in the world; but it will not do for me. I know in what college I'll take my degree, and I wish they'd let me write the letters after my name as the men do."