She had expected him, and had resolved that this visit, on his part, should crown her triumph.
It was in a small parlour adjoining her own boudoir that she received him.
The luxurious sofa was placed near the cheerful fire: the heavy curtains were drawn over the windows in such a manner as to darken the room.
Cecilia was attired in a black silk dress, that she had purposely chosen to enhance the transparent brilliancy of her complexion, and to display the dazzling whiteness of a bust, which, though of small proportions, was of perfect contour.
She was reclining languidly upon the cushions which were piled on one end of the sofa, and her little feet peeped from beneath the skirts of her dress.
She did not rise when Reginald entered the room, but invited him to take a seat near her upon the sofa.
So bewitchingly beautiful did she appear, as the strong glare of the fire played upon her countenance, amidst the semi-obscurity of the room, that he could not resist the signal.
He accordingly sate down by her side.
"Your visit to-day," said Cecilia, "proves to me that you have forgiven the indiscreet confession into which I was yesterday led in a moment of weakness."
"I am come as a friend—as a true and sincere friend," returned Reginald, with considerable emphasis upon the last word. "But I know not whether my occupations, my duties, in a word—will permit me to visit you again for some time——"