"If he finds us women too much for his unaided strength--" John Eames muttered something about being very well as he was, and then got himself into an arm-chair.

He had shaken hands with Lily, trying as he did so to pronounce articulately a little speech which he had prepared for the occasion.

"I have to congratulate you, Lily, and I hope with all my heart that you will be happy." The words were simple enough, and were not ill-chosen, but the poor young man never got them spoken.

The word "congratulate" did reach Lily's ears, and she understood it all;--both the kindness of the intended speech and the reason why it could not be spoken.
"Thank you, John," she said; "I hope I shall see so much of you in London.

It will be so nice to have an old Guestwick friend near me." She had her own voice, and the pulses of her heart better under command than had he; but she also felt that the occasion was trying to her.