'What is his name?' he asked, and Alison told him.
'Goring—Goring,' said he, pulling his nether lip thoughtfully; 'I have heard the name. He called on me more than once to ask your London address, as also did Lord Cadbury of Cadbury Court; but suspecting his object, I declined to give it.'
'Oh, why?'
'He is an officer—and officers are often wild and unscrupulous fellows. You are young, more than most attractive, and are without a protector—you understand?'
'Oh, sir, how you have wronged him!'
'I am sorry you think so, but——'
'Good heavens, you may have parted me and Bevil for ever!' she exclaimed, in a voice of intense pathos and sorrow.
'Not so, my darling—I am here!' said Bevil Goring, who had entered unannounced by the boarding-house servant, and in a moment his arms were round her and her head upon his breast.
The darkest hour is always that before the dawn, it is said, even as clouds are a prelude to sunshine.
It is chiefly in novels and on the stage, but seldom in real life, that people start and scream, or faint and fall; so Alison, on finding herself suddenly face to face with the object of all her dearest and tenderest thoughts, felt only her colour change and her heart give a kind of leap within her breast; while power so completely seemed to leave her limbs for some moments that she would have slid on the carpet but for the support of Bevil's caressing arms, and for more than a minute neither spoke, for great emotion induces silence.