"My poor mamma had none to advise her," urged Sybil, not heeding a slight tone of reprehension in what Audley said.
"How fortunate has been the chance that led me to you to-night!" he whispered in her ear.
"But to what end or purpose do we meet at all?"
"Fettered as I am—most true!"
Audley could only sigh deeply and press her to his breast.
"Then you—you love me still?" said Sybil, as her slender fingers strayed among his hair, the action in itself a mute caress.
"My darling—I have never ceased to love you!" he exclaimed, gazing tenderly on the pure pale face whose features he could see distinctly, even amid the obscurity of the bower. Her head drooped on his shoulder, and they sat for some minutes quite silent, and full of thoughts that were beyond utterance; yet Audley's delight was not without alloy. He felt that he loved her dearly, and yet, with all the joy of the time, there mingled a selfish regret that he had won her so completely, as their love could never be a successful one.
"And you leave this to-morrow?"
"To-morrow."
Her voice was broken and tremulous. Audley became deeply moved as he heard her weep; and he began to think, as better impulses inspired him, was it possible that he could relinquish or sacrifice a girl so soft and tender, so loving and true, for "Mrs. Grundy and Society?" and had he actually at one time—young-officer-like—felt a little glow of satisfaction when she returned the eye of Vishnu, and he felt himself once more free!