"You do not believe me to be capricious?"
"I do not."
"And if I were to beg you .... to .... if I were to say.... do not come here any more....?"
Her voice faltered, and died away in a whisper. He started as the words fell on his ear, and turned first red, then pale again.
There was a moment of embarrassed silence.
"Oh! do not believe," she passionately exclaimed, "that it comes from me; do not fancy that I should ever.... But I cannot do what my heart dictates: I owe obedience to another."
He saw at once what was in her mind; he saw that Cecil's absurd jealousy was at the bottom of her agitation: and in a low but firm tone, he said,—
"Blanche, do not continue. I understand you. I never was a favourite of his, and he naturally enough does not desire my acquaintance; in which case, of course, I must relinquish the pleasure of seeing you. Do not sob, Blanche—you cannot help this. Such cases are frequent. I shall not regard you less—shall not be less your friend, because I am not permitted to see you. Perhaps, if he knew me better, he might think otherwise of me; but sympathy is not to be commanded, and too many people dislike me, for me to be either surprised or hurt at his opinion. Besides, I have already interfered too much between you. He thinks my conduct unwarrantable—perhaps it was—and he dislikes me. There, you see I look at the matter in its true light. I do not blame you—I do not blame him. A husband is not forced to accept the friends of his wife."
At this moment Cecil returned.
Heath coloured as he saw him enter the room; Blanche turned aside her head to conceal her tears, but not before Cecil's glance had detected them; a fierce pain shot across Cecil's heart, as if a burning iron had entered it, but with a hypocritical smile he extended his hand to the captain, and expressed himself delighted to see him.