curse here and hereafter, and not one penny of my money, if it was
to save her from the workhouse.'

After that we were sad enough at Whitecroft. But in two days come a
letter from Edgar to Lilian; and when she had read it, she looked at
me and said, 'O Isabel, whatever shall I do? I never can marry
without dear uncle's consent,' and I turned and went from her
without a word, because I couldn't bear to see her arguing and
considering what to do, when the best thing in the world was to her
hand for the taking.

All the next week she cried all day and most of the night. Then
uncle went to London, my belief being it was to alter his will, so
that if Lilian married Edgar, she should feel it in her pocket,
anyhow, and he was to stay all night, and the farm servants slept
out of the house, and we were without a maid at the time. So Lilian
and me were left alone at Whitecroft.

Lilian and I didn't sleep in one room now. I had made some excuse to
sleep on the other side of the house, because I couldn't bear to
wake up of mornings and see her lying there so pretty, looking like
a lily in her white nightgown and her fair hair all tumbled about
her face. It was more than any woman could have borne to see her
lying there, and think that early in the new year it was him that
would see her lying like that of a morning.

And that night the place seemed very quiet and empty, as if there
was more room in it for being unhappy in. When Lilian had taken her
candle and gone up to bed, I walked through all the rooms below, as
uncle's habit was, to see that all was fast for the night. It was as