“If Philodice might awaken father perhaps he would let us go now,” whispered Cybele.
“Henry says it does not take more than an hour——”
“To become a bride?”
“Yes; he knows a clergyman very near——”
“Do you?” inquired Lissa. Lethbridge nodded and gave a scared glance at Harrow, who returned it as though stunned.
“But—but,” muttered the latter, “your father doesn’t know who we are——”
“Oh, yes, he does,” said Cybele calmly, “for he sent you the tickets and placed us near you so that if we found that we liked you we might talk to you——”
“Only he made a mistake in your name,” added Lissa to Harrow, “for he wrote ‘Stanley West, Esq.’ on the envelope. I know because I mailed it.”
“Invited West—put you where you could—good God!”
“What is the matter?” whispered Lissa in consternation; “have—have I said anything I should not?” And, as he was silent: “What is it? Have I hurt you—I who——”