"Enough, Laura," he said, quietly; "I have received my sentence. You do not love me, dearest; you have yet to suffer life's great fever."
She clasped her hands, and looked at him beseechingly.
"You are not angry with me, Arthur?" she said.
"Angry with you, my sweet one!"
"And you will still love me?"
"Yes, Laura, with all a brother's devotion. And if ever you have need of my services, you shall find what it is to have a faithful friend, who holds his life at small value beside your happiness."
He said no more, for there was the sound of carriage-wheels below the window, and then a loud double-knock at the hall-door.
Laura started to her feet, and her bright face grew pale.
"My father has come!" she exclaimed.
But it was not her father. It was Mr. Balderby, who had just come from St. Gundolph Lane, where he had received Henry Dunbar's telegraphic despatch.