At this moment the carriage drove into the station, and stopped at the usual place of meeting. We were not too soon, for the train had just arrived, and Lily’s quick eyes caught sight of her father coming towards us. ‘There’s Papa!’ she exclaimed, starting up in the carriage. I took her hand, and gently drawing her back to her seat, I implored her to answer me. Her lovely face was flushed, the ready tears trembled on the long lashes which veiled her eyes; she hesitated for a moment, then in two words made me happy. ‘Ask Papa,’ she whispered. I could only thank her by a silent pressure of her tiny hand, as ‘Papa’ at that moment joined us, and neither of us was sufficiently composed to explain the reason of my presence. Lily and I quite understood each other; and I was able to satisfy Mr Langdale as to my position and prospects; but he would only consent to an engagement on condition that our marriage should not take place till his daughter was of age. I pleaded that it would be quite impossible for me to bear the delay of so many years. ‘How old,’ he inquired, ‘do you imagine the child to be?’ ‘Certainly not more than seventeen.’ ‘Then let me tell you for your comfort that Lily has reached the mature age of nineteen and a half,’ replied her father. I was equally surprised and pleased, for it made the disparity between us so much less than I thought, as well as the proposed time of probation. It was a favourite joke of Mr Langdale’s that it was my darling’s childish trick with the little dog, and not her appearance, which had given me an erroneous opinion of her age. Miss Langdale always pretended to agree with her brother. That good lady highly approved of our engagement, declaring that she had taken a fancy to me from the first. This was not exactly true, but no doubt she thought it was when she said it. One evening when we were talking over the memorable journey, it occurred to me to ask Lily why she had travelled second-class on that occasion, her ticket being for the first. ‘Hush!’ she whispered, placing her little hand upon my lips. ‘Aunt does not yet know of that flagrant impropriety; but I assure you I had a good reason.’ She told me afterwards that her brother was so charmed with ‘the lark,’ as he called it, that he quite forgot his ill-humour, and tried to assist her to carry out her plan in every possible way; he had taken her ticket and selected a carriage, when it occurred to him that she would look more like a nursemaid in the second-class; to which she agreed. Lily a nursemaid! Did my darling expect to travel only with the blind?