"My boy, the more manly part will be to yield," he said very low; not too low for Jean as well as Cyril to hear.
The lad grow white, and looked at Jean.
"Yes, do go!" she said gently, pityingly.
Cyril could better have done without the pity: but Mr. Trevelyan's words took effect.
"I must beg of you, Cyril, not to delay. For your own sake as well as mine. I cannot wait any longer, and I insist upon your coming," Miss Devereux went on with querulous repetition.
"Good-bye," said Mr. Trevelyan.
He took Cyril's hand, with a warm grasp which spoke volumes: and from that hour, he had a hold upon the young baronet. "Come and see us again soon."
Cyril crimsoned to the roots of his hair, and stepped in.
"Poor boy: it is hard upon him," muttered the clergyman, as they drove off, Sybella talking still.