“It is a very bad service I am doing you, Lily. If George were really to find it out, I think he would kill me, and perhaps you.”
“Oh, the sense of honor is not so keen as you imagine in our family!” sneered Lilian. “He would bully us both, and perhaps strike one of us; but he wouldn’t risk hanging on your account or mine.”
“But what do you want to say to Colonel Richardson?”
“I want to tell him to come and say good-bye to me before he goes away, for he has been ordered abroad. George won’t invite him here again, I know; but I must see him, and I will.”
“But how can you——”
“He must come on Christmas Day, in the evening. You know how my brothers will celebrate Christmas by drinking more than usual, and then quarreling among themselves. They will soon give me an excuse for leaving their society, and I will meet Colonel Richardson at the gate at the bottom of the garden—the one that leads to the short cut to Beckham.”
“You would risk that? Think what you are doing, Lilian. Colonel Richardson would never consent to put your reputation in peril like that.”
“He will put himself in peril too, with my wild brothers about; so he’ll risk it. And I know how to make him come. I’ll tell him, if he doesn’t come down here, I’ll come up to London to see him.”
“Lily, are you mad? I will not help you to do this.”
“Very well, then; I’ll risk it without your help—post my own letter, receive the answer, and you may betray me to George if you dare. I believe I am mad, I am so miserable!”