“Hang it all, ’tain’t _me_ that wants to see you. Don’t you understand?” Mildred confessed her ignorance, and he was about to explain, when Lilian came up with a letter just received from her sister. “The Lord help me,” groaned the Judge, while Lilian, thinking he spoke to her, said: “What, sir?” “I was swearing to myself,” he replied, and adding in an aside to Mildred: “Come down as quick as you can,” he left the room. Scarcely had he gone when Lilian began: “Guess, Milly, what Geraldine has written. She says Lawrence was intending to propose to me while he was here, and she thinks I’d better manage—dear me, what was it she said,” and opening the letter she read: “If he has not already offered himself, and a favorable opportunity should occur, you had better adroitly lead the conversation in that direction. A great deal can sometimes be accomplished by a little skilful management.” “There, that’s what she wrote, and now, what _does_ she mean for me to do? Why, Mildred, you are putting my combs and brushes in my jewel-box! What ails you?” “So I am,” returned Mildred. “I am hardly myself this morning.” “It’s because I’m going away, I suppose; but say, how can I adroitly lead the conversation in that direction?” “I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Mildred, but Lilian persisted that she did, and at last, in sheer despair, Mildred said: “You might ask him if he ever intended to be married.” “Well then, what?” said Lilian. “Mercy, I don’t know,” returned Mildred. “It would depend altogether upon his answer. Perhaps he’ll say he does—perhaps he’ll say he don’t.” This was enough to mystify Lilian completely; and, with a most doleful expression she began to change her dress, saying the while: “I see you won’t help me out; but I don’t care. He most offered himself that night I sat with him when you were down with Clubs;” and she repeated, in an exaggerated form, several things which he had said to her, while all the while poor Mildred’s tears were dropping into the trunk which she was packing. Ever since Oliver had told her of Lawrence’s drowning cry there had been a warm, sunny spot in her heart, but Lilian’s words had chilled it, and to herself she whispered sadly: “Oliver did not hear aright. It was ‘Lily! dear Lily!’ he said.” “Mildred!” screamed the Judge from the lower hall, “come down here, quick; I want you for as much as fifteen minutes; and you, Miss Lilian, if that packing isn’t done, hurry up, or Thornton will go off without you.” “I think it’s right hateful in him,” muttered Lilian, adding, in a coaxing tone, as Mildred was leaving the room, “won’t you kind of be thinking how I can _lead the conversation_ in that direction, for I shall have a splendid chance in the cars, and you can whisper it to me before I go.”