I could name his name, my dear--' 'Do pray tell me,' said Lily, whose curiosity was all alive.
'Why--a--not yet, my dear,' answered Aunt Becky, looking down; 'there are--there's a reason--but the affair, I may tell you, began, in earnest, on the very day on which she refused Mr.Mervyn.But I forgot you did not know _that_ either--however, you'll never mention it.' And she kissed her cheek, calling her 'my wise little Lily.' 'And my dear, it has been going on so regularly ever since, with, till very lately, so little disguise, that I only wonder everybody doesn't see it as plain as I do myself; and Lily, my dear,' continued Aunt Rebecca, energetically, rising from the sofa, as some object caught her eye through the glass-door in the garden, 'your beautiful roses are all trailing in the mud.

What on earth is Hogan about?
and there, see, just at the door, a boxful of nails!--I'd nail his ear to the wall if he were mine,' and Aunt Rebecca glanced sharply through the glass, this way and that, for the offending gardener, who, happily, did not appear.

Then off went Aunt Becky to something else; and in a little time remembered the famous academy in Martin's-row, and looking at her watch, took her leave in a prodigious hurry, and followed by Dominick, in full livery, and two dogs, left Lilias again to the society of her own sad thoughts..