God bless you, my dear child." She neither went away, nor drew her hand away.

She stood there--as he had phrased it--patiently, until he should release it.

He soon did so, with a weary movement: all he did was wearisome to him then, save the thinking and talking of the theme which ought to have been a barred one--Sibylla.
"Will you please to come down to tea this evening ?" asked Lucy.
"I don't care for tea; I'd rather be alone." "Then I will bring you some up." "No, no; you shall not be at the trouble.

I'll come down, then, presently." Lucy Tempest disappeared.

Lionel leaned against the window, looking out on the night landscape, and lost himself in thoughts of his faithless love.