"Why, my dear, your very vehemence convinced me of what I only suspected before. I am afraid you will be very unhappy, Sibyl, if you indulge in such feelings. You ought to try and cultivate a more trusting spirit, my dear; without perfect faith in the person we love, there can be no happiness.
"I do trust! I do trust! I will trust!" said Sibyl, clenching her small hand as though she would in a like manner shut out all doubt from her heart. "But, oh, where we love, the faintest symptom of distrust is madness."
"Where we love truly we feel no distrust, Sibyl."
"Oh, you do not know. Do I not love truly? Have I not staked life, and heart, and happiness on him, and yet——"
"You doubt."
"No, no—not now. I did doubt, but that time has gone," said Sibyl, with a sort of incoherence.
"Then, wherefore this visit to the isle, Sibyl?" said Mrs. Brantwell, fixing her eyes searchingly on her face.
Before Sibyl could reply, a sound, as if of a heavy fall below, reached their ears.
"What can that be?" said Mrs. Brantwell, starting up.
"It sounded like some one falling," said Sibyl, listening breathlessly. "I will go down and see."