'Enough of it.' cried Mr. Valmont, darting on me a glance of extreme wrath; 'You talked, you say, of times that are to come. Pray, who endowed you with the gift of foretelling what times are to come?'
'Sir, our endowments are perfectly natural. We do not presume to tell of the future, except as far as it is confined to the feelings of our own hearts. We know, fully and entirely know, that our hearts must cease to throb with life, when that love is extinguished, which was born and nurtured to its growth, under the encouragement of your approbation—do not frown on me, Sir,—I—I——'
Mr. Valmont did not speak while Sibella made a faultering stop. She shortly went on again thus:
'I confess, Sir, that I do fear you. Habit is prevalent with me, and I still tremble at your frowns. I would not offend you, but I must expostulate. Oh be not, I intreat you, be not angry with Clement for loving me! He must love me. Our love is the very soul of our being. Give us then, Sir, new life! Unalloyed felicity! Say——'
She seized my hand, and leading me close up to Mr. Valmont, she added, with rapid vehemence:
'Say now, that he is mine, and I am his for ever!'
Her emphasis made me tremble. I had neither power to brave him, and speak with her, nor attempt conciliating him, by withdrawing my hand from her's.
In a much less angry tone, although she had been so much more bold, than he had used to me, Mr. Valmont said,
'You are strangely presumptuous, child. Have I not told you, I have other designs. Have I not a right over you?'
'No, you have none!' replied Sibella, abruptly: 'No right to the exercise of an unjust power over me! Why dream of impossibilities, and talk of other designs? I tell you, Sir, I have looked on every side, and I find it is your caprice, and no principle of reason in you, that forbids our union.'