“Yes,” said Lilias, smiling sarcastically, “no doubt all the great people said I was behaving most unbecomingly; but they may say what they like. I know I don’t care for that part of it. Mary, you will say something to mother to prevent her asking me about it.”
“Yes,” said Mary. “Lilias, would you like to go away from home for a while?”
“I don’t know. How could I? There is nowhere I could go, unless you mean that I should be a governess, after all, and—” She stopped, and her face flushed again.
“And what?”
“I don’t like to say it; you will not enter into my feelings—I don’t like to do anything he would not like.”
Mary looked at her sadly.
“Poor Lilias!” she thought, “is ‘he’ worthy of it all?”—“I was not thinking of that,” she said aloud. “I meant, if it could be arranged, for you to go away for a visit for a little. Mrs Greville’s sister asked you once.”
“Yes, but ever so long ago, and I wouldn’t on any account propose such a thing to Mrs Greville just now.”
“Very well,” said Mary.
Then they kissed each other, and said good-night.