——————“Let their hands
Tremble, and their cheeks be flame
As they feel the fatal bands
Of love they dare not name,
With a wild delicious pain,
Twine about their hearts.”
Tristram and Iseult.
Gwyneth and Captain Hepburn drove home through the beautiful twilight together.
“I do not think we need alarm your father very much,” said he, after a considerable silence: “there is every hope that she will be better to-morrow.”
“Oh, yes! I have no doubt of that,” said Gwyneth; “I am not afraid about my father, he is too reasonable to entertain foolish fears; and now that all risk and danger are over, there can be no real ground for alarm.”