“The scoundrel!” said he, after a long silence.
“Well, then, why let that fellow defeat you, for his own ends? I would go at once to Baden. Your leaving England would be one more proof to her that she has no rival. Stick to her like a man, sir, and you will win her, I tell you.”
These words from a nun amazed and fired him. He rose from his chair, flushed with sudden hope and ardor. “I'll leave for Baden to-morrow morning.”
The Sister rose to retire.
“No, no,” cried Sir Charles. “I have not thanked you. I ought to go down on my knees and bless you for all this. To whom am I so indebted?”
“No matter, sir.”
“But it does matter. You nursed me, and perhaps saved my life, and now you give me back the hopes that make life sweet. You will not trust me with your name?”
“We have no name.”
“Your voice at times sounds very like—no, I will not affront you by such a comparison.”
“I'm her sister,” said she, like lightning.