'Celestial in truth! My hope of heaven! Dian's crescent will be ever on that house for me, Clotilde. I would it were leagues distant, or the door not forbidden!'
'I could minister to a good knight humbly.'
Alvan bent to her, on a sudden prompting:
'When do father and mother arrive?'
'To-morrow.'
He took her hand. 'To-morrow, then! The worst of omens is delay.'
Clotilde faintly gasped. Could he mean it?—he of so evil a name in her family and circle!
Her playfulness and pleasure in the game of courtliness forsook her.
'Tell me the hour when it will be most convenient to them to receive me,' said Alvan.
She stopped walking in sheer fright.