Gabriel paused for a minute as though to gather his strength together. It was no time now to argue, to plead; words availed naught. The time for deeds had come, the call to be true to country and conscience. With a look of reproachful love that was to haunt her all her life long, he bowed low, and quitted the room in silence.
For a few minutes Hilary sat down calmly to her fruit-stoning: then all at once the pride that had upheld her gave way, and, burying her face in her hands, she sobbed as if her heart were broken.
CHAPTER VIII.
“Who like an April morn appears,
Sunshine and rain, hopes clouded o’er with fears,
Pleased and displeased by starts, in passion warm,
In reason weak.”
—Churchill.