The conversation had commenced itself in a manner that did not promise much assistance to Mrs. Dale's project. When Lily got upon any subject, she was not easily induced to leave it, and when her mind had twisted itself in one direction, it was difficult to untwist it. She was now bent on a consideration of the smaller social habits of the high and mighty among us, and was asking her mother whether she supposed that the royal children ever carried halfpence in their pockets, or descended so low as fourpenny-bits.
"I suppose they have pockets like other children," said Lily.
But her mother stopped her suddenly,—
"Lily, dear, I want to say something to you about John Eames."
"Mamma, I'd sooner talk about the Royal Family just at present."
"But, dear, you must forgive me if I persist. I have thought much about it, and I'm sure you will not oppose me when I am doing what I think to be my duty."
"No, mamma; I won't oppose you, certainly."
"Since Mr. Crosbie's conduct was made known to you, I have mentioned his name in your hearing very seldom."
"No, mamma, you have not. And I have loved you so dearly for your goodness to me. Do not think that I have not understood and known how generous you have been. No other mother ever was so good as you have been. I have known it all, and thought of it every day of my life, and thanked you in my heart for your trusting silence. Of course, I understand your feelings. You think him bad and you hate him for what he has done."
"I would not willingly hate any one, Lily."