Vyner took three rapid pinches, and felt greatly confused. Blanche threw herself into her husband's arms, and sobbed aloud.
"Bless you, my own Blanche, for the unshaken depth of your love. It shall not be thrown away. I will no longer be unworthy of it. I have been a villain—yes, sir, I confess I have been a weak and selfish villain; seduced by my necessities, and by vile temptations, I have nearly brought this dear girl to ruin. But this morning has saved me. I have seen the peril—I will—hear me, sir, solemnly swear, by all that is sacred—by all my hopes of happiness—by this dear head now resting on my heart—I swear never again, on any pretext, to touch a card—to enter a house of play! Will you believe me? You hear my oath—a gentleman's word ought to be sufficient, but you have my oath—will you believe it?"
Blanche pressed him convulsively to her, and laughed hysterically in her joy.
Vyner rose, and taking Cecil's hand, said,—
"Chamberlayne, you are a man of honour; I respect you. What you have now done effaces the past. We are reconciled. I will assure you two hundred pounds a year during my life, which, with your own income, will suffice, I hope, to keep you in decent comfort, and will enable you to employ your talents honourably, and, I hope, profitably. My house is open to you. We are reconciled, are we not?"
Cecil pressed his hand warmly.
"I have been angry with you," Vyner continued, "but my anger is gone—what says our favourite?"
Non Dindymene, non adytis quatit
Mentem sacerdotum incola Pythius
Non Liber æque, non acuta
Si geminant Corybantes æra
Tristes ut iræ—
Eh? is it not so? The past then is forgotten?"
"Oh, sir," said Cecil, wiping away a tear, "I do not deserve such kindness.... I have been a wretch.... But my future conduct shall thank you—I cannot now!"