They reached an obscure suburb, and parted at the threshold of a large, gloomy, ruinous house, which Sibyll indicated as her father's home.
The girl lingered before the porch; and the stranger gazed, with the passionless admiration which some fair object of art produces on one who has refined his taste, but who has survived enthusiasm, upon the downcast cheek that blushed beneath his gaze.

"Farewell!" he said; and the girl looked up wistfully.

He might, without vanity, have supposed that look to imply what the lip did not dare to say,--"And shall we meet no more ?" But he turned away, with formal though courteous salutation; and as he remounted his steed, and rode slowly towards the interior of the city, he muttered to himself, with a melancholy smile upon his lips, "Now might the grown infant make to himself a new toy; but an innocent heart is a brittle thing, and one false vow can break it.

Pretty maiden! I like thee well eno' not to love thee.

So, as my young Scotch minstrel sings and plays,-- 'Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, Sic peril lies in paramours!'" [A Scotch poet, in Lord Hailes's Collection, has the following lines in the very pretty poem called "Peril in Paramours:"-- "Wherefore I pray, in termys short, Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, Fra false lovers and their disport, Sic peril lies in paramours."] We must now return to Marmaduke.