"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Brantwell, "that's all very fine, without being in the least consoling. I want you. Mrs. Courtney's very lively and all that, I know; but I invited her here as much to keep you in spirits as anything else, and now you fly off and leave us for my pains."
"I am very sorry, Mrs. Brantwell, to disturb your amusements," said Sibyl, gravely; "but when I tell you this affair is of the utmost importance to me, and that my happiness, in a measure, depends upon my going, I am sure you will withdraw your objections."
"Your happiness? Now, Sibyl Campbell, I would just like to know what this island-girl has to do with your happiness?" said Mrs. Brantwell, folding her fat hands, and looking in Sibyl's face.
"More than you would ever think, perhaps—more than I once ever dreamed myself she would have," said Sibyl, while a cloud fell over her brow. "But enough of this. I cannot explain further at present. The amount of it is, I must go to-night!"
And Sibyl's face assumed that look of steady decision it could sometimes wear.
"Humph! particularly mysterious all this. When do you return?"
"That depends upon circumstances. To-morrow, perhaps."
"Sibyl, do you know what I think?" said Mrs. Brantwell, with such abrupt suddenness that the young girl started.
"No, indeed; I do not pretend to divination," she said, with a smile.
"Shall I tell you?"