"Hush, my dear! This excitement will do you a world of harm, and it cannot mend the matter, however it may be. I want to know who told you of this, Sibylla. I supposed it to be Cannonby; but Tynn says Cannonby has not been here."
The question appeared to divert her thoughts into another channel. "Cannonby! What should bring him here? Did you expect him to come?"
"Drink your wine, and then I will tell you," he said, holding the glass towards her.
She pushed the wine from her capriciously. "I don't want wine now. I am hot. I should like some water."
"I will get it for you directly. Tell me, first of all, how you came to know of this?"
"Deborah told me. She sent for me out of the drawing-room where I was so happy, to tell me this horrid tale. Lionel"—sinking her voice again to a whisper—"is—he—here?"
"I cannot tell you—"
"But you must tell me," she passionately interrupted. "I will know. I have a right to know it, Lionel."
"When I say I cannot tell you, Sibylla, I mean that I cannot tell you with any certainty. I will tell you all I do know. Some one is in the neighbourhood who bears a great resemblance to him. He is seen sometimes at night; and—and—I have other testimony that he has returned from Australia."
"What will be done if he comes here?"