"Stay with us," re-echoes Lady Clive, warmly, and her brother's speaking eyes reiterate the wish.
But Lady Vera's gaze turns from those eyes, too dearly loved for her peace of mind, and her heart sinks heavily.
"I should not trouble your peace, Lady Vera," he says, hastily, as if divining the thought in her mind. "I am going away."
"I cannot drive you from your sister's house," she answers, sadly.
He comes to her side and takes her hand gently in his strong, warm clasp.
"Be reasonable, Vera," he says, like one speaking to a willful child. "I am a man, young and strong, and capable of facing the world. You are scarcely more than a child, and you need protection from the ills that threaten your tender life. You will stay with Sir Harry and Nella while I will go away. Of course we understand that we cannot go on meeting each other daily as we have done. It would be too hard for both. It is best that we part. That is what you wish yourself—is it not?"
"Yes, yes," she murmurs, faintly.
"That is best," he says, bravely. "I shall go, then; Nella will have my address, and if you ever need a friend you will send for me—will you not, Vera?"
She bows silently, and with sudden, irrepressible passion, he presses her hand.
"Oh, Vera, I have lost you forever, I know," he says, brokenly, "but—you will never allow Leslie Noble's claim, will you? You will never belong to him, never love him?"