"We shall be friends, Dolores, for the future?"
Any other time Dolores would have been shocked that a young man should dare to call her "Dolores." But then she had heard so much lately about Sir Barry, and she has been so much in his thoughts, that neither notice how naturally the name slips out. It is so nice to have some one to talk to, Dolores thinks, as she and Sir Barry walk around and around the sweet old garden, with everything bathed in the bewitching moonbeams. Some one is singing in the hotel, and the song floats out on the clear night air, and comes down to the ears of the young couple walking there. The words were sweetly pathetic, and stirred Sir Barry's heart with a wild impulse to end all further nonsense, and ask Dolores then and there to marry him.
"Never to know it, never,
Never to know, ah never;
Never to know the heart that's aching
All for our sake, and almost breaking;
Never to know, never to know,
The heart that we love is aching, aching, breaking."
The song ends in a piteous wail that makes Dolores shiver.
"How dreadful that song, 'Never to know,' ends," she says, never thinking what an excellent opportunity she is giving the man at her side to declare himself. But Dolores never thinks of this, however; and anyway, all further confidences are over, for suddenly a little figure appears before their astounded gaze.
"Oh, Miss Litchfield, would you please come in and quiet master Roy? His mamma has gone away, and he is so ill, Miss, I don't know what I shall do."
The little figure wrings her hands and looks piteously to Dolores for help.
"Surely Mrs. St. James did not go and leave that sick child with a little thing like you?" Sir Barry says sternly.
Goodness knows what would have been said, but for this timely interruption, and Sir Barry feels annoyed to find his opportunity gone. But instantly Dolores returns to see what can be done for her suffering little friend.
"You will come out again?" Sir Barry asks, as Hester is seen whisking in the door.