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I THINK HE IS LIGHT OF HEART.
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shall remain together." As soon as these words were out of her mouth, she hated herself for having spoken them. There was a maudlin, missish, namby-mamby sentimentality about them which disgusted her. She specially desired to be straightforward, resolute of purpose, honest-spoken, and free from all touch of affectation. And yet she had excused herself from marrying John Eames after the fashion of a sick schoolgirl. "It is no good talking about it any more," she said, getting up from her chair quickly.

"You are not angry with me;—or at any rate you will forgive me?"

"I'm quite sure you have meant to be very good, and I am not a bit angry."

"And you will see him before you go?"

"Oh, yes; that is if he likes to come to-day, or early to-morrow. I go home to-morrow. I cannot refuse him, because he is such an old friend,—almost like a brother. But it is of no use, Mrs. Arabin." Then Mrs. Arabin kissed her and left her, telling her that Mr. Eames would come to her that afternoon at half-past five. Lily promised that she would be at home to receive him.

"Won't you ride with us for the last time?" said Emily Dunstable when Lily gave notice that she would not want the horse on that afternoon.

"No; not to-day."

"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